


Reception to Follow

by StarryCircuits



Series: Taking Flight [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family, Family Member Death, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Friendship, Keith is now Czech-Korean/Japanese-American, Lotor is an aggressive flirter, M/M, Other, POV Third Person Plural, Third Person Multiple POV, Weddings, discussions of mental health, keith pov and lance pov to be precise, some physical violence, swearing like a truck driver, wedding!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-16 19:43:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11835729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryCircuits/pseuds/StarryCircuits
Summary: So Lance met this guy on a flight to San Francisco and he might be in love??? A little bit??? And Keith is everything he's ever wanted - sweet, attentive, alluring... What he doesn't know is that they're both guests at a mutual acquaintance's wedding. Hi-jinks ensue.





	1. Day 1: ummm this cute boy is texting me, help

**Author's Note:**

> Rating for language, alcohol usage and sexual themes.  
> (also sorry i can't write summaries haha)  
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading. I want to give a shoutout to the people who left feedback on my first fic "Flight," who really made me feel so happy and confident for once in my writing and inspired me to actually follow through and write this fic. I promise the other chapters will probably be more interesting. Especially since I'll have more ideas and not be writing them at 1am.

“Hunk,” Lance groans from the couch, phone in hand. “I’m dead.” The smell of lemon meringue wafts from the oven as Hunk grabs the tray and moves it to the kitchen island. 

“Well, I certainly hope not,” Hunk says nonchalantly as he closes the oven door and gets out some plates. “Then you wouldn’t be able to enjoy this lemon meringue.” As he says this, Pidge comes out from her room (read: programmer cave) with a smirk on her face.

“Aaaannnndd he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the texts from his hot crush,” she says, using a spoon to scrape some of the meringue of the pie while Hunk isn’t looking. She stuffs the spoon in her mouth as she approaches Lance, who is scoffing unconvincingly as he crosses his arms. Pidge sits on the couch and drapes herself over Lance, putting the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, mysterious fellow passenger!” she moans with her mouth full. “I’m swooning. Please come take me away in your flying saucer and make a million alien babies with me!” 

Lance shoves her away.

“Oh come on, that’s an exaggeration,” he says, red-faced. Pidge is highly unimpressed.  
“You’re full of shit,” she replies without missing a beat. Lance gasps dramatically. “You always have some inane comeback, but not this time. That’s how I know you’re full of shit.”

“Pidge! Who taught you to talk like this?” Lance says in mock horror, hand over his heart. “Hunk, someone has tainted our precious daughter! I cannot take it!” 

Pidge just cackles as she goes to the island for a second round of meringue. Hunk snatches her spoon away and hands her a plate and a fork instead. 

“You know, if he likes space as much as you do, maybe it’s a match made in heaven,” Pidge adds thoughtfully before taking a bite of the pie.

“Aliens. Not space. He went on a forty-minute rant about alien conspiracies,” Lance says quietly, shy.

“Who is the mystery crush, anyway, Lance?” Hunk asks, bringing two plates to the couch. 

“We’ll see soon enough, I bet,” Pidge says before Lance can answer. Lance laughs awkwardly as he takes a plate from Hunks extended hand, discarding the phone.  
“Well, I did invite him to the beach?” he offers as he takes a bite of lemon meringue. Hunk lights up.

“Oh, that’s so cool! We can go tomorrow!” he says. “I mean, you’re only gonna be here for a week, Lance. And wedding festivities are gonna take up probably half of them. Might as well go earlier.”

“But Lance might want to be alone on his date,” Pidge singsongs. As much as Lance appreciates Wingwoman Pidge, he kinda needs the support right now because every time he talks to Keith he feels like he’ll spontaneously combust at any moment and that is not going to happen if he can help it. He’s Lance McClain, after all! Smooth, suave, sexy. And Keith was totally into him, too. Probably. Maybe? He could’ve just been a nice guy. His lowkey flirting doesn’t necessarily mean anything-

“So beach trip tomorrow for the four of us? Or Lance and his mystery man can go enjoy their privacy while Pidge and I do some boardwalk shopping?” Hunk asks. Lance gulps.

“Trip for the four of us. Definitely.” 

“I need to find my wetsuit,” Pidge grumbles as she gets up.

“Good luck finding it,” Hunk says kindly as Pidge shuffles to her room. Lance scoffs.

“She’s never gonna find it in that trash heap she calls a bedroom!” he yells after her.

“Oh, fuck you,” Pidge yells back noncommittally. “Or get your dreamboat to do it for you. I don’t give a damn.”

Lance turns back to his pie and lowers his face into it, groaning with red cheeks.  
“Hunk, I’m dead.”

“Oh!” Hunk exclaims gently. “Is this why you’re dead? Did he say something to you?”

“No, Hunk, he didn’t,” Lance groans into his pie. “But he’s soooo hooooot. Like hotter than Megan Fox hot. Hotter than Shakira hot. Hotter than Godfrey Gao hot. Hotter than the SUN hot. Holy shit.”

“Hotter than Beyonce?” Hunk asks in disbelief. Lance looks up suddenly, meringue smeared all over his chin.

“No one is hotter than Beyonce,” he says indignantly. He pouts, letting Hunk wipe his face with a napkin. “But he’s up there, that’s for sure.”

Hunk laughs.

“Wow, you really have it bad, huh?” he asks as he prods Lance with the base of his fork. Lance finally takes another bite of the pie and holds up a cute picture of Keith, which Lance totally didn’t snipe him in the airport terminal for when he wasn’t looking.

“Hunk,” Lance says forcefully. “Look at him. He’s so cute.” 

Hunk scrutinizes the photo. Something about the guy is super familiar, but Hunk can’t place what it is exactly. He does have to hand it to Lance, though. The guy is good-looking. Hunk hums in reply. Lance looks at his phone again and sighs wistfully. Keith is adorable. Adorable. And apparently sending him a text!

Keith: hey. when do you want me to meet you? should i meet u there? 

Lance sighs and clutches his phone to his chest. What a dreamboat. Who’s not going to fuck him this week because they just met and Lance likes to be wooed first. God, Pidge, have some faith. Lance returns to his phone.

Me: hihi~ meet me at the shoreline at 11:00? Pidgeotto (she evolved lol) and Hunk and I are gonna be there @10 bc *somebody* wants to get some anime thing when a store opens idk where tho but yah show up when you want to!!

Lance cringes. Why does he talk so much?

Keith: haha ur cute. C U there at 11! :)  
Me: sahfksjahfjksahkjfsa

Holy shit, Keith thinks he’s cute! He could scream for joy!

Me: i talk too much haha

Fuck. Why did he say that?! That was definitely unnecessary!

Keith: no no ur fine. i like seeing u excited abt stuff

Lance is done. Dead. Gone. R.I.P. Lance. He died as he lived – enchanting the hearts of unfairly attractive people everywhere. Sort of. 

“Lance, stop screaming into your pillow! Hurry up and get changed!” Pidge threatens from her room, her crap clattering around her. “The walls are too thin for my robotics stuff AND your voice to be causing a ruckus at the same time! Plus we need to go get Shiro and Allura’s present so hurry UP!”

Lance looks down at his phone again, at Keith’s lovely profile icon. It’s so tiny but even as an icon he can see the gentle slope of Keith’s nose and his jawline and his super-long eyelashes. Someone hold him. But out of the corner of his eye he sees Pidge rush by to a waiting Hunk near the door, so he starts to get ready. 

\---

“Soooooo,” Shiro starts. Keith groans. “Who’s this cute boy you’re mooning over?”  
Keith groans again, ignoring his brother in favor of the coffee in front of him. After he got home last night, he ended up texting Lance for two hours before finally collapsing on the couch, still in his suit. His brother, ever the attentive one, quickly picked up on what was keeping him awake. Then again, there weren’t many options. He was either watching another episode of “Ancient Aliens” or obsessing over cute boys. That is to say, Keith was Facebook-stalking and lurking on their Instagrams.

“Shiro,” Keith groans. “I didn’t meet anyone special. He’s just a guy I met on the plane yesterday.” Shiro quirks an eyebrow.

“And yet you refer to a specific ‘him’ when I ask you about him, so clearly it IS indeed someone,” Shiro answers bemusedly. “So he must be your type, at least.” Keith sighs.

“Okay, fine, Shiro. I did meet a guy and he’s super attractive and I think I’m going to the beach with him and some of his friends tomorrow.”

“What’s his name?” Shiro asks. “Do I need to look him up?” Keith sits up.

“God no, Shiro. Please stop. I’m twenty-four. You don’t need to look after me anymore,” Keith says in a rush. “For quiznak’s sake, you’re only five years older than me.”

“I know,” Shiro admits quietly, sitting next to him. “But I worry about you. And so does Allura. It’s been a while since… you know… and we want you to be happy, baby brother.” 

Keith sighs again. It’s been almost fifteen years since the accident, and while Keith wouldn’t say that he’s “over it” he also wouldn’t say that it has any bearing on his love life.

“Thanks, Shiro. But if it’s any consolation, it’s your buddy Lance McClain so-” 

“Wait, you met Lance on the plane yesterday?” Shiro asks, astonished. “What a small world!” 

After a beat of silence, Shiro puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Lance is a bit eccentric, but he’s a really good kid, Keith,” Shiro says. “You really should take him seriously.”

“And why wouldn’t I?” Keith asks, giving him a levelling gaze. Shiro sighs. Keith notes that this is probably where his own sighing habit came from.

“Keith, I don’t mean to baby you,” he starts. “But I know you go out sometimes and bring someone home when you don’t… really want that person.”

“Shiro, that’s my choice–”

“I know. And it’s your prerogative to sleep with whoever you want. But you never seem happy,” Shiro says, at a loss for how to continue. “I guess, I mean… you’re satisfied or whatever, but you just don’t seem… to enjoy these guys’ company. All I’m saying here, Keith, is that I think Lance is a good person. Do with that information what you will.” 

Keith is silent.

“Thanks, Shiro,” he says. Shiro smiles.

“No problem,” he says back. “Anyway, now that you’re awake, sleepyhead, I have a lot to do before meeting with Allura later today. I think she’s picking up her dress now, but I have to go confirm some last-minute catering details. You wanna come with? Or do you want to chill?” 

Keith gives a glance at the turned-over picture frame on his bedside table in the adjacent room.

“I’ll come with you.”

\---

Lance is racing Pidge and Hunk to get groceries when he gets Keith’s next text. It is a time-honored tradition wherein the trio split the list of groceries into thirds, and then each person runs to their section of the store. Whoever’s at the register first gets first dibs on what to watch for Movie Night. 

But Keith is more important. No he isn’t. Argh, not yet that is. Lance, just answer him.  
Lance can hardly contain himself. It’s a text from Keith asking if he has a Snapchat. Lance sends him his Snapchat information as quickly as possible. It’s not even like, thirty seconds before Keith has sent him a friend request. It’s probably the quickest “accept” Lance has ever clicked. 

About a minute later, Lance gets a snap from Keith. It’s a selfie in what appears to be a car. Keith is scowling.

“So bored,” reads the caption. 

Lance sends a selfie back. “How come?”

The caption reads: “waiting 4 my brother to get out of the store. taking forever.” Keith is still scowling. He’s so cute.

“Oh you have a brother?” Lance asks, moving again with his cart. He sends a selfie with him on the cart. 

“Yah,” Keith responds, sunglasses down and a coffee in hand. “The best – he got me this coffee.”

Lance is smiling down at his phone when Pidge and Hunk reach him. 

“Ooh, is that the boyfriend?” Pidge asks with a shit-eating grin. Lance pockets the phone with a scowl.

“No,” he says petulantly as he glances down at his very full shopping list. Whoops. Hunk chuckles. 

“Well,” he says good-naturedly, “Something important must’ve come up. Pidge and I have been waiting for ten minutes.”

Lance feels the blood rush to his cheeks and starts spluttering. Pidge decides to play nice.

“Alright, give me that,” she says as she snatches his list. “Go text him or whatever, and Hunk and I will take care of this.” Lance gives her a grateful smile. Pidge gives him a little push as Hunk waves. 

This pattern may or may not continue for the rest of the day. Hunk and Pidge take care of stuff, and Lance highkey texts Keith as he lowkey freaks out at some of his selfies. What really breaks him is what he gets as he’s going to sleep: a selfie of Keith in bed, face curled into his pillow. And the text he gets separately is almost as cute.

Keith: im rly looking forward 2 seeing u. good night

Lance squeals into his pillow and goes to sleep with the goofiest grin on his face.


	2. Day 2: murphy's law is a pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beach date, the not-date at the beach.

Lance absolutely HATES being late. He knows he appears slovenly at times, and usually kind of careless or flippant about the small stuff. But people who know him better know he's actually quite the perfectionist. He is nothing if not a man of his word, and he works super hard, harder than most might guess. 

So when everything goes to shit the morning he's supposed to meet Keith, he's panicking. Not like, panic attack bad (he's walked his little brother through a few of those), but he's wigging out. 

"Pidge! Hunk! Hurry up!" Lance yells. "We're going to be late!"

Pidge is sitting on the bench, tugging on her knee-highs and lacing up her Converse. She's a bit groggy, seeing as she got up approximately ten minutes ago. Apparently she slept through her alarm. Hunk woke both of them up at around 9:30, since he knew they needed to head out. Lance is hitting himself in the head right now because he should've woken up on time, too. But he was freaking out last night and he’s freaking out now, and he doesn’t want Keith to think he doesn’t care.

Sure, Lance likes his look to be effortless. But it’s like a sexy effortless, not an I’m-a-shitbag-who-doesn’t-care effortless. So of course he puts the maximum effort possible into making sure he looks good naturally. He wears face masks to bed, he uses super nice shampoo and body wash, fancy lotion, the works. 

But today the suave, cool Sexy Lance is on vacation. Lance looks like a rat, and he's trying to get rid of his eye bags with mild concealer. He puts in some hair gel and hopes that will do.

They end up taking Hunk's van to Kinokuniya instead of biking to Japantown like they planned. Lance's bike had a flat, so the trio had decided to use the van. Now, their driver options are limited. Hunk is an excellent driver, really, but he's also kind of slow. Pidge can't drive - she uses mass transit or finds a different way to do what she needs to do - and Lance is a "distracted driver" but in his defense, at least he's not texting or drinking or anything. He just starts daydreaming because he gets bored on the road. Oh, and then sometimes he speeds. The other kids in his high school driver’s ed called him “The Tailor” because of how he “threads the needle.” Suffice to say, Hunk gets carsick when he drives. So Hunk it is. 

It's hard to find parking, which seems super random because it's Wednesday. When  
Pidge leaps out of the car to go wait on line, the line is stretching down the hall of the complex and out the door, stretching around the street corner. Which, if Lance is being honest, is bullshit because Kinokuniya should have its act together and usually does.

Lance and Hunk usually wander around the shops or play in the arcade when they accompany Pidge on her weeb excursions, but today Lance is soooo on edge and Hunk is definitely picking up some edgy vibes. That's why Lance feels #blessed when Hunk offers to pick up some bubble tea for him. Lance nervously awaits his phone messages, and starts flipping out when Keith sends him a good morning text.

Keith: good morning ;) headed out now fyi 

Hunk slips into the driver's seat moments later with a melon bubble tea.

"Hunk, I could marry you," he says solemnly as he takes the tea. Hunk just laughs.

"But then who will marry your mystery man?" Hunk asks thoughtfully. "Actually, I guess Pidge might like him. If he's sarcastic at all, I'm sure they'd be great together."

Lance gasps with mock outrage.

"First of all, he is super sarcastic and they'll get along great. Second of all," he huffs, "he's mine. I'm officially calling dibs so if Pidge sees him, she needs to lay off."

"Lance, I'm pretty sure that's not how it works," Hunk says through his laughter.

"Yeah and I can't marry both you and Keith, and Pidge won't let me adopt her, but I can dream, anyway," he says, straw hanging out of his mouth.

"Okay," Hunk says fondly. "Well, I'd accept. But Shay and I are a package deal."

"Deal," Lance says instantly. "That woman makes the best garlic knots ever, and I'll gladly marry her, too."

"Who's marrying who now?" Pidge asks, slipping into the car with a large bag.

"He's marrying me, Shay and Keith," Hunk says. "What's in the bag?" 

"The newest issue of Shonen Jump, a random Gundam Wing thing and the promo Love Live set that I was waiting for," Pidge replies. "Sorry I took so long."

Lance is still on edge, but he texted Keith who was totally understanding. Once Hunk makes sure everyone is buckled up, they're off once again. On the way, Hunk hits a pothole as Lance is chugging back the rest of the tea, so it spills all over his white and blue tank and completely soils it. Lance is groaning. He looks like a slob. There's no way he can show up like this.

"Lance, it doesn't really matter if y'all are gonna be shirtless anyway," Pidge says, you know, like a reasonable person.

"Oh no, I'm going to be shirtless. I haven't worked out in like, weeks. He's going to see my flab," is Lance's smart reply.

"Lance, you have a six-pack," Pidge says deadpan. "Sort of. I wasn't looking."

"Suuure Pidge," Lance scoffs. He thinks for a second. "But this guy is super fit." 

"How fit is super fit?" Hunk asks. "I mean, that could mean anything."

"Like, less buff than Shiro," Lance says, making vague hand gestures. "But he's buffer than me, and he might have more muscle mass than Hunk but idk."

Pidge whistles. "Yeah, guess you better hit the gym, lover boy."

"I'm sure he likes you for you, Lance!" Hunk says. "I mean, your personality didn't scare him off."

"Yeah," Pidge adds. "Realistically he's not going to be put off by your body if he hasn't been put off by the rest of you."

"Thanks, guys, I love you, too," Lance says sarcastically.

"Love you!" Hunk and Pidge say in unison.

As they get closer to the beach, Lance starts practically vibrating in his seat. He’s so excited to see Keith. He also needs to chill, because he really doesn’t want to scare this cute boy off before they can even have a Thing. It doesn’t even have to be like, a hookup thing or a relationship thing, but some sort of Thing is very much preferred. What are they going to do? Build sandcastles like five-year-olds? They should do sexy things on the beach, like beach volleyball and drinking smoothies while feeding each other tropical fruits or something. 

“Lance, just chill,” Pidge says.

“Yeah,” Hunk adds, glancing at him fondly from the driver’s seat. “You are an amazing person – for all of your theatrics and antics – and he is a lucky guy.”

“Hunk,” Lance says, raising a hand to his chest. “Thank you.” It’s so genuine that Pidge and Hunk both feel a smile tugged out of them. When Lance turns his head back to the road in front of them, he sees the absolute last thing he wanted to see: a traffic jam.

“You might want to text Keith,” Pidge says. Lance pulls out his phone and just as he’s about to send his text, the arcane iPhone 4s he’s been using since high school shuts down on him. Fuck! 

“Uh… Pidge, do you have a phone I can borrow? Or a charger?” Lance asks shakily.

“Lance,” Pidge says as she hands him her phone. “I don’t have Keith’s number.”

Lance slaps his forehead and hands it back. “Hunk?” 

Hunk shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Lance. Look, we’ll be there in a half hour, an hour tops.”

Lance shrinks in his seat. “I sure hope so, buddy.”

\----  
Keith got up an hour earlier than he planned. He spent the morning pacing up and down the hallway of the apartment he shares with his brother, looking for his belongings before Shiro silently handed him a bag with water, towels and sunscreen. Keith is not normally a very nervous person. He’s… been around the block many times before, so to speak, and he’s seen a lot of handsome guys in his day. So a hot acquaintance who may or may not be the most endearing person he’s ever met before shouldn’t be making him as shy as it does. Keith is a man of instinct. He doesn’t think; he just does, and normally it works out fine. But for some reason, he feels this pull to Lance that makes him want to slow down a bit.

When he gets Lance’s text, he’s initially relieved. Keith has time to pick up some coffee and a flower (just in case this is a date, but he’s not getting his hopes up). It’s only 11:30 by the time he reaches the beach, so he sits in the grass nearby for a bit and waits. And waits. And waits. 

Me: uh hi lance are u okay?

And waits some more. It’s like 12:45 now, and he’s tried texting Lance a total of four times. Keith sighs to himself. Is Lance alright? Is he in accident? Wait, maybe he rejected him and is too nice to cancel. What a fucking bummer. Lance was such a cutie, too. And sweet. Ugh, goddamn it, Keith. Don’t get down about this, you’re not dating. Also, he seemed really interested. He’s probably just busy, caught up in some stuff. Hopefully he’s okay, though. 

Keith gets up to leave at 1:00 and starts walking down the beach. If he’s going to get stood up, at least he can take a lap in the ocean and enjoy being outside for a little bit. And if he’s not, at least he can entertain himself until he gets any further information. So he strips down to his swim trunks and splashes into the water.  
\---  
“Lance, wait, don’t forget to put on sunscreen!” Pidge shouts after Lance as he busts out the door and makes a beeline straight for the beach. 

“Pidge, I’m already tan. I’m not gonna burn!” he shouts back without slowing his pace. Pidge huffs. 

“Hunk, he’s gonna get skin cancer,” she mutters. Hunk gives her a shoulder nudge.

“He’ll be fine,” he says, watching Lance run into a trash receptacle. “I hope.”

Lance is running and running and running. They had agreed to meet by the fire pits, but he doesn’t see Keith. How late is it anyway? The Sun is super bright but it looks like it’s passed its peak. It must be around 1:30 by now at the earliest. Lances slows to a stop and sits down by the tide, sighing heavily. Keith must have already left. He knows he would have. Well, sort of. He’s only been stood up once, and he kind of ended up waiting for his not-date for two hours. But to be fair, Nyma’s interest in him should have been red flags him from the beginning. 

Still, though. Keith probably has standards (the unfairly hot bastard that he is) and left. Lance buries his head in his knees and prepares himself to cry for the rest of the day. He’s deliberating on how long he should stay before joining Hunk and Pidge when there’s a gentle tap on his shoulder.

“Lance?” says probably the most beautiful voice he has heard since a magical plane ride that stole his heart- okay, that’s enough of that. Lance lifts his head up and holy shit, Keith is shirtless. Code red, code red. This is not a drill; Keith is just as ripped as Lance thought, if not more, and oh my god he’s totally staring at Lance and not in the fond way, just in the concerned way. “Are you okay?”

“Keith,” Lance gets out before both he and Keith startle at the way tears start to well up. Keith kneels next to him. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Keith asks. 

“For standing you up. I was running late and then we had to wait on line and then there was a traffic jam and then my phone ran out of battery and,” Lance says before cutting himself off because Keith is chuckling.

“You know, I’m relieved,” Keith says. Lance gives him a questioning look, which shouldn’t look as cute as it does. He wipes his tears hastily. “I thought you might’ve stood me up… or worse.” 

Lance looks at him, then looks down at his body and grins at him wolfishly. “And miss your abs? I don’t think I could miss that.” 

Keith grins. They sit there for a few minutes, staring out at the ocean when suddenly a bird swoops over and does its thing on the back of Lance’s tank. Keith giggles. Lance grumbles. Great, twice the mess. He’s feeling a bit self-conscious about his body, not gonna lie, but he also is not staying in a shirt covered in literal shit. But hey, on the bright side, Keith makes this little noise when his shirt comes off and that’s promising. 

“Come on, Mullet,” Lance says with a grin. “Bet I can beat you at a swim race.”

They eye each other for a second, squaring each other up. (And maybe checking each other out, but Lance isn’t gonna focus on that or he may actually die from nervousness.)

“You’re on,” Keith huffs. They race to the shore. 

By the time they get out of the water, Pidge and Hunk are there. Pidge raises an eyebrow when she sees Keith, and Hunk gives him a thoughtful but friendly look. (Hunk is always friendly.)

“Hi, Keith!” Hunk says, offering a hand. “I’m Hunk, one of Lance’s best friends.” Pidge smirks and does the same.

“And I’m Pidge,” she says, shaking Keith’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Keith.” 

Lance looks between them. 

“Do you know each other?” he asks. Keith looks at Pidge, whose smirk grows wider.

“We have mutual acquaintances,” she says cryptically. “But I don’t need to know him personallt to know that I’ll kick his butt at building an awesome-ass sandcastle.”

“Ass castle,” Hunk mutters. 

“Well, Keith and I will build an even better castle than you!” Lance retorts.

“Fine,” Pidge says. “Hunk and me versus you and Keith. Right here, right now.” 

“Let’s go!” Lance shouts, running a hand along Keith’s bicep. To grab his attention, obviously. “Right, Keith?”

“Yeah, we can take ‘em,” he says with a rogue little smile.  
\---  
Keith gets home after nine. He ended up spending an afternoon building sandcastles with Lance and his friends, and then they went to a really good poké place for dinner. They got Italian ice, too, and Keith still can’t handle how gorgeous Lance was in the evening sunlight as he ate it. How the light struck his jawline, and how his hair looked so soft that he would’ve cut himself off from alien conspiracy movies for a year just to run his hands through it.

“Welcome back, baby bro,” Shiro says from the armchair in the common room, making Keith jump. “How was Lance? I mean the beach?”

“Lance who?” says a voice from around the corner as none other than Allura steps out from the bedroom, floral dress trailing her bare feet as she pads into the foyer. She could definitely be a Pagan goddess. Like dang, Keith is gay but he would date Allura.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Just a guy I met. Don’t worry about it.”

“What Keith means is a cute boy he met on the airplane and has a crush on,” Shiro supplies. “In fact, it’s Lance McClain. You were his TA.” 

“That Lance!” Allura exclaims softly. “Wait, really, Keith?” 

Keith bristles. “Something wrong?” Allura laughs.

“No, no, not at all,” she says, Shiro nodding behind her. “I just didn’t think you’d have the patience to handle him.”

Keith looks away. 

“I don’t…” he says, a weak excuse ready to be presented but Allura is already tugging on her shoes to leave, and Shiro gets up to escort her to the door. 

“You do,” they both reply without missing a beat. Shiro faces him as he reaches for the front door handle.

“You know, Keith,” he starts. “You could always go with Lance to the wedding. Even though you were invited separately.” 

Keith splutters. “We’re not dating, Shiro!” 

“Not yet,” Shiro says. “But you should think about it.” When Keith is quiet, Shiro’s look softens. “You deserve happiness.”

“I know,” Keith murmurs softly, watching the door click shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo the semester has just begun and I’m already Suffering hahaha so I’m probably gonna be on hiatus for a while. Lemme tell you, kiddos, time management is the best skill you can have in college (which I decidedly do not have lol) Anyway. Thanks for reading! I do have the full intentions of finishing this story at some point (hopefully by the end of the year but I’m not holding my breath) and an idea of what goes into each chapter (sort of), and I really appreciate you all. Fun fact – the “ass castle” think comes from my irl friend group, where we take the “ass” qualifier and repeat it with the word that was supposed to follow it. It’s beautiful. Oh god I’m so tired. I lied, I still ended up writing late at night, and publishing un-betaed work. Good night, lovelies <3


	3. Day 3: this is fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance plays dress-up with Pidge and Hunk. Meanwhile: Keith has a weird feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone. Ya girl is back from the dead, if only for a little while. You can read my Tumblr post (starrycircuits.tumblr.com) for a more lengthy apology/explanation of what’s to come, but the short version is that I went through a rough semester and have had a really hard time staying motivated. I'm sorry this is late, but I want to make this fic better than what it is. Thank you so much for your continued support, as it's really what's keeping me going. :)

Lance can admit it. Maybe getting a tux only two days before the wedding is a tad last-minute. But here he is with Pidge and Hunk and they’re gonna be the fiercest guests Allura and Shiro have ever hosted. You know, when Hunk can actually just PICK ONE and move on with his life like the rest of them. 

The three of them had decided against matching suits, but did decide to go with a theme. Lance almost went with a blue tux, but then went for a “007” je ne sai quois and went with a black tux and a navy-blue shirt and a black tie. Pidge kinda went for something similar, but she went with an emerald green jacket and a black turtleneck (hey, not his personal fashion style but she’s a grown person and can choose her own wardrobe even if Lance and his bisexual ass are itching to fix it). Hunk, on the other hand, is being extremely nitpicky and Lance has just about had it. He knows HE spends a long time picking out clothes, but four hours is a bit too much. Pidge and him were easily finished an hour ago.

“Hunk, just get this one if it’s comfortable,” Pidge says, legs crossed, not looking up from her tablet (probably play-testing an iOS-compatible FPS she made, the nerd). “It looks good on you.” Again, without looking up. Hunk whines in response.

“But it’s just such a bad color. Tell her, Lance.”

“It’s,” Lance starts. The color isn’t great, that’s true, but gold doesn’t have a lot of fashionable options except as a tie. Lance, obviously, could make it work on sheer confidence alone. But Hunk is just so obviously uncomfortable, and Lance agrees – that is not a flattering color on anyone. “It’s a bit much. But hey, if you spill mustard on yourself, you’re golden. Literally!” 

Pidge rolls her eyes, and Hunk snorts.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks guys,” he says sarcastically.

“So are you getting this one?” Pidge asks hopefully. Lance leaves his head cradled in his hand, elbow perched on the edge of the couch at the lounge in the tuxedo store. The store attendant left them to it about two hours ago, clearly done with their antics.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Hunk says with zero hesitation. “I’m gonna look for some other options.”

Lance and Pidge groan.

“Hey, Lance, have you heard from Lover Boy today?” she asks in a way that, heard by any other person, would be considered passive curiosity. Lance is still dying over how insanely hot Keith is, though, so he’s willing to gush to Pidge even if this is clearly her “I want to tease you relentlessly” voice.

“O.M.G. Yes, Pidge,” he says, open a snap he “accidentally” screenshot. Hey, an accident is an accident, right? He tilts the screen to Pidge, who just sees a guy with a tan and scars in a beanie, holding a red cat.

“Wait, is that cat red?” she asks. Lance laughs.

“Yeah, apparently he and his brother have this white cat that they affectionately dub ‘their lion’ and how cute is that?? And Keith dyed her red with some red food dye.”

“Is he a literal twelve-year-old?” Pidge asks, pausing her game. (Lance was spot-on.) “Who forces a dye job on their cat?” Lance whips his phone back.

“Um, excuse YOU, Pidge. He’s twenty-four and single and we’re gonna get married and have like fifty babies.”

Pidge raises an eyebrow.

“And for the record, the cat is pretty complacent. Apparently she loves baths, so no problem!” he sticks out his tongue. Pidge is thoughtfully quiet, which terrifies Lance. Why, you ask? Because Snarky Pidge is a pain in the ass, but she’s tolerable. Funny Pidge is the best thing since sliced bread. Thoughtful Pidge, though, will get to the thing you fear most and take it, and then rip it out of your chest and lay in front of you on the table. “What?” he asks, clearly unnerved. 

Pidge responds by setting her tablet down on the ottoman next to her and turning to face Lance completely. Uh-oh.

“Lance,” she says softly. “Don’t you think that this thing you have with Keith is moving a bit quickly? I’ve never seen you so enamored with someone so fast before.”

Yep. Definite uh-oh.

“Listen Pidge, I know what I’m doing,” Lance says, not at all knowing what he’s doing. “Keith is so great, and I know you’d love him if you spent quality time with him.”

“Like building sandcastles yesterday?”

“I meant something more intimate!”

“Wait,” Pidge says, eyes wide. “Did you guys fuck?!” A passing shopkeeper gives them a dirty glare, and Pidge looks him straight in the eye as he passes, daring him to say anything else. (They’re paying easily over $5000 across the three of them, and no one’s around. He can deal with it.)

“What?!” Lance squeaks, choking on nothing. “No! Of course not!”

“Good, because we don’t want you getting STDs and what-not,” Pidge says, not because she’s actually worried about Lance, but because she anticipates the violent shade of red that rushes up to his face.

“Pidge, it’s fine. Nothing’s happened!”

There’s an awkward moment of silence between them, so Pidge coughs into her hand.

“So, uh,” she starts. “Are you gonna text him pics of you in the tux or what?”

Lance grins. “Great idea, my dear Watson!” Pidge just rolls her eyes in response.

Two minutes later, after picking the top five selfies from the mini-photoshoot Lance and Pidge had in their formal wear, Lance has barraged Keith with his “ladykiller” poses. Man, like, even if Keith were straight, he’d be at least a little gay after looking at those photos. Dayum, son. So Lance totally expects a response, just not the one he gets.

It starts as an audio, sort of, because the screen is black. It’s a low whistle, definitely Keith’s. The camera suddenly pans up, and there’s very clearly a treadmill in the background. A split second later there’s a second video, and it’s a very shirtless and very sweaty Keith, Adam’s Apple bobbing as he takes a long sip of water. The accompanying text is a:

“quenching your thirst? ;)”

After probably blushing up to his ears, there’s a third video and it’s a very flustered Keith selfie. 

“Hey, sorry. My brother’s friend stole my phone. He’s a dick!”

“Guilty as charged!” yells a voice in falsetto in the background. Keith turns his head to the source of the noise, his profile left for Lance to drool over.

“And stop doing the fucking Mickey Mouse voice, you creep,” Keith shouts before the video cuts out. 

Pidge low-whistles.

“What a gym rat,” Pidge says. Lance starts, unaware that Pidge was watching all of that. 

“Yeah, I agree, what a dreamboat,” Lance says wistfully. Pidge rolls her eyes. 

\-----------------  
Keith is dying a little inside. Despite seeming effortlessly perfect and suave, he’s actually fairly meticulous. He’s not actually sure why people perceive him as anything but a mess, albeit a good-looking mess, but here he is. 

He spent about two seconds picking out an outfit for the ceremony, to which Shiro sighed, walked away and returned with something ACTUALLY decent, courtesy of Allura. Keith eyes the red jacket, white shirt and black tie with mild interest. It’s very nicely made, and when asked how much it was, Shiro just told him not to worry about it. So Keith is gonna make it a point later to get the lovely couple a very nice wedding present. You know, when he gets to it. 

He needs to blow off some steam at the gym first. He doesn’t expect Lance’s snaps, and he’s so attractive and that he needs to pause and take several sips of water. During which, of course, Matt steals his phone and adds some unnecessary commentary to the chat. (Fuck you, Matt.)

But afterwards, Keith is still just so on edge. If anything, Keith is known for his instinct. This is one of few positive traits he’s willing to acknowledge in full. So the weird premonition swirling through his veins doesn’t make him feel any better. Even as he sits with Red in his lap, purring to her heart’s content. Even as he eats his TV dinner while watching re-runs of Ancient Aliens. Even as he adds some incense to the pot by his balcony. Even as he stands out on said balcony watching the San Francisco Sun set over the horizon like a fiery egg dripping down a canvas.

The feeling lingers. And it’s related to the wedding, but Keith isn’t sure what. He hopes it’s not like some weird jinxing of Shiro’s and Allura’s marriage, but he doesn’t believe in a god or in spirits. He hasn’t in years, and at this thought of some divine presence = he looks at the incense burning by the balcony door, with the photos hanging above. There are fairy lights strung around the room, all from Allura’s uncle Coran, whose glass bulbs reflect in the glossy photos. Keith feels himself sink into his couch, suddenly longing for a beer as a weird consciousness of his limbs and his breathing and his heartbeat make him strangely sedated. 

A call from Shiro interrupts his unease. (Read: brooding.)

“You alright?” Shiro asks. Keith is quiet, but Shiro hums in some silent understanding. “Something just felt off. I wanted to make sure, you… you know.” 

Keith did know. Ever since the accident, Keith knew that he’d caused a lot of trouble for everyone. And he went through a very difficult phase before he decided to apply himself and go to college. Basically, he was a worthless piece of shit and he knew it. But according to Shiro… and Allura… and Coran… and basically everyone he’s ever talked to, he just had alternative coping methods and was “shut off” as a self-defense mechanism. Keith is still learning to love himself, and his therapist tells him that he’s doing okay, so he thinks that he can rag on himself every once in a while, too. 

“Thanks, Takashi,” Keith says. “I’m fine. I just feel strange.”

“Oh?” Shiro asks, his quirked eyebrow almost visible through the phone. “What do you mean?” 

Keith doesn’t really know how to respond. How does he tell Shiro that oh, yeah, by the way, I know I’m atheist but I have this weird-ass, inexplicable sense of foreboding and it’s not like, deadly but I can tell some shit is gonna go down but also, I don’t know what’ll happen and to whom and that’s terrifying but I also don’t wanna curse your marriage? To make matters worse, I’ve been wrapped up in feelings of guilt and self-pity while trying to let myself fall in love because I like the cute boy more than I should, considering I’ve known him for like four days? And I’m super thirsty but it’s different this time? Fat chance if Shiro was ever going to hear him say all that.

“I just get the sense that something will happen at your wedding, but I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Is it bad?” 

“Yes, probably, but I don’t know. I feel like someone is going to get hurt, but hopefully everything stays fine. Just keep that in mind.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

“Thank you. I will.”

Another moment of silence.

“So, uh, your bachelor party?”

“Oh no. Where is it?” Shiro groans. Keith chuckles, happy they can move on so quickly. 

“The Castle,” Keith says with barely contained glee. Shiro smacks his head on the table. 

“I don’t want to go to a strip club for my bachelor party, Keith,” Shiro says. Keith tries to be merciless but ultimately, he wants to tease Shiro – not add stress to his special day. So he relents. 

“Don’t worry,” he adds. “We reserved the second floor – you know, the set of private rooms and the DJ access?” 

Shiro breathes a sigh of relief.

“Who’s gonna be there?”

Keith is silent.

“Keith.”

Keith relents.

“Okay, so Matt may have gotten your contact book.”

“Fuck.”

Keith is still howling with laughter long after Shiro hangs up the phone.


	4. Day 4: the big day, almost

The day begins pretty uneventfully. Lance drags his sorry butt out of bed after Pidge unhelpfully starts an impromptu pillow fight with Hunk in their living room. Lance cleans up a little bit so he doesn’t look completely slovenly, makes his breakfast, and steps out to run a few errands. You know, the usual.

What really makes the day interesting is the call from Matt. Hunk is waiting for the quiche to finish baking and is watching TV next to Pidge, who’s drinking out of a stein filled with apple juice. (Were she drinking any faster, Lance would be suspicious that it’s not apple juice.) Pidge puts her brother on speaker before continuing to drink.

“Hey, fam,” Matt chirps on the other end. “How’s it hanging, kiddos?”

“Ain’t got anything hanging,” Pidge responds eloquently, following it up with a burp. Lance gives her a thumbs-up. Hunk shakes his head in disappointment. Matt laughs.

“Of course not, Katie-cat,” he says kindly. “So anyway, Shiro’s bachelor party starts at six at The Castle. Can you all make it?” 

All hell breaks loose as Hunk’s kitchen timer goes off, compelling him to ditch Pidge mid-drink. Pidge, mid-drink, does a spit-take all over the coffee table. The coffee table, which is now covered in liquids, did a piss-poor job of protecting Lance’s phone. Lance, whose phone is covered in juice and Pidge spit, leaps forward and bumps into the coffee table, which capsizes. The contents of said table – two magazines, an empty bottle of water, and three coasters – all go flying. By the time everything is done, Matt is laughing like a madman and Pidge looks like she’s going to murder someone.

Lance, who at this point has just given up, looks up at Pidge from his spot on the floor. Did they hear that correctly?

“Matt,” Pidge says evenly, rubbing her temples. “Did we hear that correctly? Are you seriously organizing a party for the innocent cinnamon roll SHIRO at a fucking strip club? For his fucking BACHELOR party, right before he marries probably the only other being on the planet who is too good to be in the same plane of existence as the rest of us mortal folk?” 

There’s a moment of silence.

“Yes?” Matt says. Hunk, Pidge and Lance all groan. “Hey, cheer up! It’s funny! Besides, we’ve got private event space booked. There will be no strippers unless people wanna wander off and uh…” There’s shuffling on the other end, as if Matt is adjusting his hold on the telephone. “… do some exploring. Anyway, this is a courtesy call. I’ve got other people to ring up, so just text me a confirmation. Later!”

The end dial tone is the only sound in the room for a second or two.

“So, quiche is ready…” Hunk says softly, leaning over the island. As Lance and Pidge get up to join him, Pidge sends Lance a devilish smirk.

“Are you going?” she asks, getting a laugh in return.

“Of course! Who am I to turn down a partay with the Scooby gang?” Lance replies, giving her an incredulous look. “The event space is pretty nice, anyway. Classy for a strip club. Not our usual haunt, as they say, but it’s pretty swanky.”

“Okay,” Pidge sing-songs. “I just ask because you might want to look extra spicy tonight if Keith’s gonna be there.”

Lance stops in his tracks. Right. Keith. Some acquaintance of Shiro and probably Allura, and he’s going to be there. With his unfairly attractive face. And muscles. And nice ass, probably. He really does need to look spicy. 

Hunk is at this point Lance’s honorary mind-reader.

“Lance, you’ll look fine!” he says sincerely, handing Pidge her a generous helping of salad (despite her chagrin). “Just be yourself and don’t worry too much.”

“Besides,” Pidge continues as she shovels quiche into her mouth, “we all know you’re gonna get tipsy by like nine and lose your verbal filter by nine-thirty. Maybe you’ll actually wait until ten before giving lap dances this time.”

“And there’s that,” Hunk admits sheepishly. 

“That was like twice!” Lance squawks. 

“That was four times in the past three years, five if you’re including the astrophysics club mixer. Maybe we can ask Shiro tonight if he felt your dick when you started-”

“But Lance, really,” Hunk interjects. “You keep freaking out about this guy, but he seems cool. Just go with it like you always do. What could go wrong?”

Lance gives his friends a long look. 

“You’re right, guys. What could go wrong?”  
\---

So, as it turns out, a lot can go wrong. Hunk has asked what could go wrong before, and usually he’s right. Usually nothing goes wrong. Maybe Lance gets a little too much into his shenanigans than he plans, but everyone ends up fine. More or less. You know, depending on what “fine” means.

Now, The Castle is a four-story clubhouse overlooking the ocean, about forty minutes out from San Francisco with typical NoCali traffic. The first floor has the lobby, with the back cordoned off for dancing and dining. The second floor has the dancers and strippers, plus a lounge and a bar. The third floor is a lounge and bar, with stellar window views. It has almost a bougie NYC feel. The fourth floor with roof access is reserved for private events only, complete with a dancefloor, bar, lounge, and tables for both.

The night is pretty great by the time sunset hits. Even Pidge tried to look nice, and for all of the hijinks that The Castle is known for, it’s definitely not a shady place to be on a Saturday night. The dancers are paid well and have well-defended legal rights, security is pretty good – bar fights and drug-related crimes are practically unheard of here – and both guests and staff members tend to be decently respectful in most parts of the building. That said, it IS a house of shenanigans, and people do typically hire strippers for their private events. Which Matt, being the piece of shit that he is, actually went out and did. He didn’t hire a ton of them – there are like ten regulars on the main floor, and he got like one or two of them for like a couple songs to record Shiro’s reaction.

But that’s when tonight’s shenanigans started to happen.  
\---  
Keith is absolutely livid. Matt said he’d handle the guests, but instead Keith is babysitting the maybe one hundred guests that Matt had invited. People who most certainly are not on the guest list keep wandering up from the bar below, some of them attended by staff workers who KNOW it’s a private event and for some reason are just watching amusedly instead of helping Keith boot them back to the swamp they came from. Id est downstairs. Id est decidedly not from Shiro’s fucking contact book. 

And Keith is generally sober. He doesn’t like the way alcohol makes him feel, so he only drinks when he really feels the need – and only enough to help him curb the anger. Granted, maybe a Fireball and two shots of lime tequila are not the best coping method, but it gets the job done and doesn’t involve getting arrested. So that’s good.

But Keith is already a Fireball and one shot in, and it’s only eight pm. Keith plans on staying until the party is over so he can help Matt clean up (and also force Shiro, who will probably stay to help, to go home and sleep before the big day). So far, he’s kicked out thirty-eight partygoers (he counted). 

However, what really boils his blood is the guest who walks in through the door next in full military uniform. The guest nods his head at him. Keith cracks his knuckles and leaves his empty glass on the table.

“Keith.”

“Lotor.”

“Is Shiro-”

“Can it, Lotor. Let’s talk downstairs, where one of Shiro’s friends won’t hear you and therefore won’t want to fucking deck you.”

Lotor nods and follows silently.

\---  
Lance is about three shots in and he’s feeling so Good, like the Best of the Good type of Good. He’s been staring out over the ocean for like two hours, just chatting with his best friends when he realizes he wants to go dance. 

So Lance goes to Floor 2 and starts dancing. He’s young, he’s attractive, he’s single. Why shouldn’t he? So yeah, he’s grinding up on some tall glasses of water. And yeah, he’s rolling into some firecrackers. And all the while, he may or may not be drinking some new concoctions. And damn, maybe these old-timey euphemisms are stupid but people are hot and hey, he’s enjoying himself. 

That’s when Keith – and phew, he sure knows how to make an entrance – walks by. He’s so hot, as usual. Oh my god, he’s even hot when he’s pouting. But who is this guy with him?

Lance chalks it up to his crush. Keith wouldn’t be at a strip club, would he? But he needs to make sure. Maybe it’s his like, six shots talking? Or was it seven? But it’s worth checking out. If Keith is here, maybe they can dance together and then they’ll fall in love and Keith will propose – or maybe Lance will propose, but only if he thinks Keith will say yes – and then they’ll get married and they’ll move to a house by the ocean but close enough to the city. So Lance trails after Keith and mystery guy (oh he’s in a uniform, that’s kinda hot) until they’re by the bathrooms in a dark corridor, away from the rest of the dancers.

“Lotor,” he hears Keith say in a low growl. And damn, that boy can growl at him any time. Except he can’t because Lotor is leaning down whispering something to Keith, and Lance suddenly really wants to know what they’re talking about. Doesn’t seem good, though, since Keith is face-palming.

“Lotor, I’m not doing this,” he says. “I love Shiro so much, and I’m not going to help someone who hurt him so deeply. He trusted you, and you played with his heart and then fucking ruined everything. You stabbed him in the back.”

Then Lotor – some elven prince piece of shit he must be, long Legolas-ass hair flowing around, that can’t be up to military standards so it has to be a wig, fuck him. Unless that’s not a military uniform and instead is just a military coat with some embellishments? Lotor sounds like an asshole, though, and the look on Keith’s face when he replies (Lance can’t decipher what he’s saying from this angle) is probably the lividest Lance has ever seen anyone in person. Not for long, though, because suddenly Keith is pinning Lotor to the wall by his collar.

“Stay away from Shiro,” Keith commands. “Shiro may be to nice to hand your ass back to you, but I’m not.”

And maybe if Lance were sober, he’d put two and two together. But instead, he sees the way Lotor gives Keith a smoldering look and the way Keith doesn’t waver and something in his head is firmly convinced this is sexual tension and not, in fact, Lotor being shaken up. But Lance can’t watch this, so he runs. He runs and runs until he literally runs into a dancer. She gives him a soft look when she sees his expression. Is he crying? Shit, he’s crying, isn’t he?

“I’m Nyma,” she says. “Hey, you can watch the show for a little bit. Relax a bit.” And with a wink and maybe a shot or two more, Lance is watching the best strippers he’s ever seen in his entire goddamn life. Then again, he had never even seen a stripper for the first twenty of them. And he’s only been to a strip club twice. And both times he was brought by his friends, but hey. His opinion stands.

\---  
“Lotor,” Keith grumbles as he and Lotor round the corner. “What are your intentions?”

“Look, Keith,” Lotor says coolly, eyeing Keith up and down. Gross. “I just want to patch things up with Shiro. Is that so wrong?”

“You literally stabbed him in the back after being fuckbuddies for a year, made Matt and Shiro both get sent to the frontlines because you seduced their lieutenant, let Shiro cover for you in combat and therefore lose his arm, and now you have the audacity to come back here and say you fucking want to ‘patch things up’ with him?” Keith says, shoving Lotor headfirst into the wall. Lotor stares at him with wide eyes, so Keith steps back to cross his arms. The irritatingly calm expression on Lotor’s face returns relatively quickly, though.

“Keith, don’t you think it’s for Shiro to decide?” Lotor purrs. “After all that I went through with him? It’s really not for a meddling little brother to deal with.” 

“Lotor,” Keith growls. “I’m not doing this. I love Shiro so much, and I’m not going to help someone who hurt him so deeply. He trusted you, and you played with his heart and then fucking ruined everything. You stabbed him in the back.”

Lotor’s face falls. “I’m probably better for him than-” 

Keith fists the collar of Lotor’s shirt again shoves him into the wall. This time the fucker can stay pinned to the wall; Keith doesn’t give a fuck. 

“If you finish that sentence, you will be leaving this establishment in a fucking stretcher,” he says. “Now stay away from Shiro,” Keith continues, raising his voice. “Shiro may be too damn nice to hand your ass back to you, but I’m not.”

Lotor sighs.

“You know what, fine? But I still want to talk to him and wish him well.”

“Hmm, sounds fake,” Keith says, not letting go. 

“Keith, just be a good boy,” he says. “Play nice so Shiro can enjoy himself, hmm? Unless you want to stay here and play with me?”

Keith gags a little inside. He lets go of Lotor and tells him that Shiro is somewhere with the dancers, who keep whisking him off to different areas on the floor. (You know, a lie. He lies. Because for some reason, people assume his refusal to lie 99.99% of the time as the inability to lie.) Keith gives Lotor one last glare before the bastard walks off to the dancers. At least he’ll be busy for a while; it’s a large floor and Shiro is on the roof. So there’s that. 

Keith sends a text to Matt explaining the situation and then follows Lotor. 

\---

Lance is so fucking wasted. Pidge was right. But hey, at least can enjoy a show. The thing about Lance is, despite his general thirst (he can admit it, it’s not something to be ashamed about), he’s truly a romantic at heart. So while he’s watching the dancers and admits they’re attractive, he’s just not into it. But they’re entertaining and they’re funny and yes – they are attractive – so he enjoys their skits and dances from a comfortable lounge chair. A performer passes his chair with a tray and offers a drink. He accepts gratefully and downs another shot. Yay, booze.

“Hey, pretty thing,” a smooth voice says to him. He looks up. Oh, it’s Lotan or whatever his name is. Lota? Lotto? Lotor! Lotor, that’s who he is. As in, Keith’s passionate lover who’s interfering with his love for Shiro. But Keith is going to stoically bear the emotional burden of all these suitors because that’s the kind of guy he is. He’s going to carry his secret to the grave, maybe live alone as a hot bachelor for the rest of his life, being all cool and tragically in love and shit. Like even when he’s wrinkly he’s not gonna be like, old, he’s just gonna be distinguished and suave and mature or something. And most importantly, not married to Lance with their five grandchildren. Hmm. Maybe this last drink was stronger than the others.

Lotor’s hot, though, and he’s giving him a smoldering look. Well, if Keith doesn’t want him, Lance doesn’t mind. Wait, doesn’t he? Keith may be Fantasy Husband of the Century but like, as they say, plenty of fish in the sea? Ugh, Lance is so in over his head. He doesn’t want additional drama.

“You can do better,” Lotor says. Hmm. Did he say all of that out loud? Who knows, who cares. “You know, I’m a pretty good dancer.”

Lance stands up. “Really? Hmm, I’m good at lots of things, too.” 

Lotor smirks at him. But suddenly Keith is there again.

Lance freezes. Keith is looking at him with an unreadable expression. And then Keith is turning and looks like he’s about to punch Lotor in the throat but it’s only for a second. But then Keith is running away, and Lance has no idea what’s happening.

“Uh, actually, Lotor,” Lance starts slowly when Lotor repeats his proposition. “Thanks. But hard pass.” And then Lance is getting up to go find Keith and maybe explain and also maybe get an explanation.

\---

For the rest of the night, Keith manages to successfully avoid Lance. This is so awkward. Does he know Lotor? Does Lance just miraculously know everyone he knows? 

But everything does end up fine. Matt manages to keep Shiro from Lotor until about 12:30, when the two exchange some pleasantries. However, Shiro is exhausted and ends up cutting the conversation short to go home, much to Keith’s encouragement. 

Keith is a drill sergeant in the cleanup squad’s post-party drudgery (at least of the major messes), and Matt keeps giving him these funny looks but doesn’t say anything. Overall it goes smoothly and he’s so tired by the time he turns in that it’s not until he’s staring up at his bedroom ceiling that he starts to think of Lance and if he cries a little before he goes to sleep, no one is there to confirm that he did. Small victories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my loves! Wow I’m just a Hot Mess lol Anyway, please forgive the angst and the delay! My internship has kept me busy and then my perfectionism kind of discouraged me from continuing this story. However, I now have more detailed outlines for my chapters, and I think maybe I just need to stop overthinking this and just write, you know? I almost re-wrote this entire chapter because I didn’t like the dynamic (and the misunderstanding-of-cheating trope is just so… blah especially if it’s set up by a GARBAGE person like myself) I’m blathering, ahh. In any case, please know that I appreciate you and all the love and support and tbh it’s keeping me going. I plan on having this story finished by the end of August and will hopefully be posting more regularly until it’s done. Also, I’ve never been to a club but The Castle honestly sounds so lit and tbh I wanna go.


	5. Day 5: i am not broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drama time mwahaha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweating nervously* what's pacing? tw: family death, mentions of mental illness  
> Heavy themes for the first two sections (one Lance POV w/ some author projecting *finger guns*, one Keith POV)
> 
> Sorry this chapter is like 7000+ words long?

So, Lance wakes up with the most massive fucking headache he’s ever had. But maybe that can be attributed to the biggest heartache he’s ever had. And maybe the ten shots, too… Or at least, the ones he remembered taking. Regardless, he’s a sad mess, a Sad Boi, as the kids say. 

This is an odd case for him. Lance knows himself decently well; his M.O. is to, in order: see a cute person; start casual but find himself falling hard despite himself; give them his entire heart because how can he not; not realize he gave them said heart; get said heart shattered to smithereens; cry into a bucket of ice cream; go off on an existential tirade to Pidge and threaten to go live in the woods as a hermit; solemnly swear to himself that he will never, ever repeat his mistakes. Rinse and repeat. 

A voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like his mom for once tells him that something is different now. And Lance cannot quite place his finger on it; he’s known Keith for less than a week. He shouldn’t be as messed up about this as he is. Keith is just a dumb boy. A dumb, cute boy. And maybe Lance just has so much puppy love to give, having never been in a relationship himself - and how could he have, with four part-time jobs he took on in high school to help pay for Marco’s surgery? Or the sixteen AP exams and three college courses he took just so he wouldn’t be That Hispanic Kid (you know, the one who only gets what he wants because “he’s a minority that fulfills the diversity quota”) that people, even in New York, liked to believe he was. Or all the hours sunk into robotics competitions he won with his team, because no matter how unserious people believed him to be, he genuinely loved to build things? Or his first love – the planetarium, which he would volunteer at to stare at the stars, in hopes of meeting people who had traveled to space and could tell him how to get there? There was never any time. And even if there had been, how could have the mental fortitude for a relationship when he couldn’t even expel out of his head the lingering belief that he somehow made his family’s life in Cuba unbearable, that he was somehow the reason that they had to move? When he still blames himself for Marco’s injury? When he still looks at the mirror and doesn’t believe he deserves love? 

And god, with how he feels so lonely even when he’s surrounded by people? Even though his friends love him. Even though his family loves him to pieces. And that’s the thing about being loved. Sometimes, it’s just not enough. Sometimes, you just feel so unlovable and so terrible about yourself even though your brain is telling you that you shouldn’t. But you can’t just tell people because no one will understand, no one can understand how someone with so much love in their life can still feel alone because “other people have it worse.” And so maybe he’s just in over his head for a boy he doesn’t know. But it feels so much like they have this connection. It’s almost as if they should know each other, that they make a good team and maybe in some parallel universe, they’re close. They protect each other, and no matter how badly things go, they love each other and would die for each other. So maybe Lance’s puppy love just isn’t enough. Maybe this universe is just trying to tell him that he’s not enough, and that’s why no one will ever love him the way he so ardently wishes he could love someone. And oh gosh, Lance is starting to cry again. He didn’t intend on getting this deep on a Sunday morning.

Pidge knocks on his door quietly. Shit, he must’ve started sobbing again. 

“Lance?” she asks quietly. “Hey, you seemed kind of upset last night. And I may talk more to robots than to actual people, but if you want to talk about it, I’d love to help.” And before Lance can stop himself, he responds.

“Katie,” he squeaks with gritted teeth, chest constricting tight around his heart. Pidge bursts through the door and gives him a hug, letting him envelope her with his arms and legs (which she rarely does, because she’s a “fierce dragon who will smite the next person to call her small”) and cry into her shoulders. 

\---

Keith wakes up angry and not knowing why. This isn’t anything new, but then a deep sadness overtakes him and Keith is honestly confused for a solid minute. Does he have to run any errands or something? He looks over at his clock. It’s like five thirty in the morning. 

Memories from the night before bite into Keith like a viper, the urge to vomit seeping through his bones like a venom. Right. Lance was with Lotor. Because Lance is just lovable like that. Figures that Lotor couldn’t keep his grimy hands off him. Pervert. 

And the thing is, Keith knows he’s a brooder. But it’s not because he listens to My Chemical Romance too often or he read too much Edgar Allen Poe in middle school (both of which he’s done, but that’s not the point). He simply doesn’t like unloading his emotional burdens on other people. Because even though he’s an average person, he likes to believe that he’s polite enough to not treat everyone like his fucking therapist. He doesn’t even like to burden his therapist, who tells him that he absolutely can and should tell him how he’s feeling.

But there are some things you don’t necessarily want to tell people. Some days you just can’t get out of bed because your mind goes back to when you were ten and your parents got into a fight and drove off but then a distracted driver (he was texting, the asshole) fucking killed them. Maybe your mind goes back to the fact that they got into a fight because you punched someone in school and the principal was mad, and your mom wanted to send you to another school where kids wouldn’t bully you, but your dad wanted you to stay and assert yourself. And maybe your mind goes back to how you were only ten and you called your parents because at the time you were afraid of thunder and the house was empty and it was your fucking birthday and your parents were fighting as they left and went to get your cake but you were scared and so you wanted them to come back home immediately and you know your mom was driving because your dad sounded scared as she made that U-turn but they started laughing and then they were telling you how much they loved you when suddenly they were screaming and there was an ugly screech on the other side and the line went dead. 

And in your mind, the police are still at your house but you’re too scared to answer because your parents always said not to answer the door for strangers but then when you get the stepstool to look through the peephole, you see Aunt Sadie crying and so you open the door and everything’s kind of a blur because you’re crying, too, while the police are talking to you and then you’re in Aunt Sadie’s and Uncle Akira’s house, and then Shiro comes in with his blanket and wraps you in it because he knows you love fleece blankets and he brushes his hands through your hair until you fall asleep. And then you develop mutism from the incident and it’s not until Aunt Sadie declares that starting today, you’re officially a Shirogane and you’re going to be Shiro’s brother that you finally speak for the first time in a year and a half to say, “What the fuck.” And everyone’s just so overcome with emotion that they’re crying and you’re crying and you’re officially a Shirogane and you’re happy because you feel like part of a family again, but you’re a Kogane and you’ll always be a Kogane but right now, it’s just too much to see yourself as a Kogane so you’ll call yourself a Shirogane even though in your heart, you’ll always be Keith Kogane, son of Krolia Cerny-Kim and Samuel Kogane. And then you’re twenty-four and even though you have a job you love, you can’t get out of bed because you don’t deserve love because you killed your parents and your therapist says you didn’t but it doesn’t mean that you don’t feel it sometimes and maybe you’re getting better at self-love and all that but you’re monologuing in bed and you go back to sleep for a few hours instead.

When Keith comes to, Shiro is knocking on his door.

“Hey, buddy?” he ventures. “Um, I’m leaving soon. I’m not sure if you’re awake, but I know you’re here because your shoes are still by the door.”

Keith glances as his alarm clock. Oh fuck, it’s already nine-thirty.

“Uh,” Keith says with a gravelly voice. “I’m… awake.”

“You’re not even up, are you?” he says with a sigh.

“No, not even close,” Keith mumbles into his pillow. 

“Well, I’m going,” Shiro says with finality. “Let me know if you need something. You were up late last night, so take your time. I’m sure Matt can handle everything for a couple hours. Relax and have some fun for once, baby bro.” 

Keith sits up slowly.

“Thank you, Shiro,” he says.

“Thank you for being my best man,” his brother’s voice calls from the front door. “Love you!”

“Love you, too,” Keith says quietly as the door shuts. With a long-suffering sigh and a quick glance at his reflection on his bedroom window, he stands up to clean himself up. 

\---  
Lance puts the final touches on his suit – dark blue with a black tie and within a college-friendly price range, yay – and the corsage everyone’s going to be wearing at the wedding. It’s white and has pink and black flecks in it and was referred to as the “Shallura corsage” in that email Matt forwarded to all of them. Allura and Shiro are such cuties, good lord. Hunk and Pidge look quite dapper, as well, and when all of them are all set, they call their Uber.

Pidge grabs his shoulders and gives him an uncharacteristically gentle squeeze, reminding him to breathe. When Hunk checks his phone, Pidge murmurs to Lance in a low tone.

“Hey, I know you’re bummed but two of the nicest people we’ve ever met are getting married today. Let’s just try to enjoy it for them, and when this is all over you can go chase after Keith and wrestle an explanation out of him.”

“But first try to talk to him. That might lead to wrestling of a different variety,” Hunk says without looking up from his phone. Pidge and Lance glance at each other with wide eyes and then suddenly all three of them and the Uber driver are laughing. Lance still doubts, but he does feel a touch better.  
\---  
Keith is still behind. He brushed his teeth, took a piss, combed his hair, threw on his tux and kinda just bolted. Not to be bothered with trolleys or Ubers, he just kind of… took his bike? Not the most stylish, some might say, but Keith will die with his bicycle. And his fencing sword too, which he hasn’t touched in years because his mom used it when she was a young swordswoman. Ugh, okay, backtracking.

Shiro, his best friend, his brother, his soulmate, is getting married today. Allura, his queen, his goddess, his sister, is the one who will be marrying Shiro. So Keith needs to be on top of his game to make sure that no one ruins it for them. 

Keith arrives at eleven, a whole hour after he planned on being there, so Matt looks rightfully concerned when he gets to Altea Botanical Gardens. However, everything is in check. The arrangements are stunning, and guests are milling about. Lotor is nowhere to be found (thank god for that, but he’s lurking somewhere so he still needs to watch out for him), and catering has really outdone itself with the rainbow- and space-themed cupcakes. 

Matt makes a face at Keith like he’s going to yell, but he must sense that it’s a rough mental health day, so he just leans into Keith and tells him quietly to rest and that there’s makeup in the men’s bathroom. Keith must look like a wreck, so he goes to the bathroom of the reception hall, and he sure does look like one. He looks like someone fucking decked him in both eyes. Not much he can do about that but hope the swelling goes down. When he leaves, he bumps into the bride, who’s still in her sweats. Allura looks startled and subsequently concerned, but before she can say anything, Keith puts up a hand.

“I’m alright, Allura. I just got here late,” he lies. Like a liar. To Allura, who must know something is up, so she just grabs the raised hand and drags him along with her. “Allura, where are we going?”

“Keith, you’re not only the brother of the love of my life, but also a brother to me now,” she says sternly, giving him a meaningful look. “You’re coming with me and helping me into my dress, and I’m going to do your makeup, and you’re going to tell me what’s wrong.”

When Allura kicks down the door to her own improv dressing room – a quaint sitting room for the family that had owned the hall and the park before donating it to San Francisco – some of the women there look surprised. Several of them are Allura’s fashion photography buddies, a few of them are her cousins. Pidge is sitting in big armchair, and she jerks her chin at Keith, who gives her a two-fingered salute. She looks like she wants to say something, but besides her, no one looks concerned once they recognize him, as most of them have met Keith, one of The Gayest Men they’ve probably ever met. The silence morphs into pleasant chatter – even roping Keith into it – as everyone prepares to put on their gowns. As the maid of honor and some of the other bridesmaids fuss over the dress, Allura does Keith’s makeup.

“So,” she says with the same air of authority as Shiro. “What’s going on? And you better tell me, Keith, because you know I will spend the rest of my wedding worrying about you if you don’t.”

Keith opens his mouth and then closes it. He opens it again.

“Lotor was at the bachelor party last night.”

Allura freezes. “Oh my,” she says. But at this point, she and Keith know each other well. So Allura goes back to wiping Keith’s face with a damp washcloth and gives him a chance to elaborate without inquiring further.

“He wanted to make up with Shiro, so he says, but I kept him from meeting him.” Keith takes a big breath, the gentle caresses of Allura’s beauty sponge on his face never halting. “I was following him, but it was not good. I uh, I saw him flirting with someone.”

Allura pauses and looks at him. “Who?”

“Lance.”

“Lance? As in Lance McClain?” she asks in disbelief as she puts on the last finishing touches. Keith nods. “Oh Keith, I’m so sorry to hear that. I’m sure it’s not as bad it seems; you don’t know that they did anything.” Keith shrugs.

It’s at that moment that Pidge, walks over with wide eyes. “Wait, did you just mention Lance?” she asks. Keith nods. “Look, I think there’s a misunderstanding. He is completely-”

And at that moment, Matt crashes through the door, apologizing profusely as he deftly avoids eye contact with a bunch of sputtering bridesmaids to grab Keith by the scruff of his neck.

“Gotta borrow him,” he says as he yanks Keith out of the room. Keith pushes Matt off but follows him as the harried groomsman-coordinator leads him purposefully to some undisclosed location like a lunatic.

“What the fuck, Matt?” he asks. Matt is just shaking his head.

“Lotor is here. Lotor, the bastard, is here!” Matt says. Keith groans, but at that moment he gets a text from Lance. Matt sees the name on the screen as he goes to pick it up. “Okay, whatever, answer your boyfriend real quick but we gotta move if we want to shake Lotor up a bit. He’s still afraid of you.”

Keith doesn’t bother correcting Matt – it’d fall on deaf ears – and reads Lance’s message. It’s just asking him how he’s doing so he figures this can wait. And basically, though it’s emotionally taxing, Matt and Keith manage to find Lotor quickly and get him to at least promise that he’ll behave for the vows.  
\---  
So like, it’s not that Lance has been actively looking for Keith. He just happened to wander around the botanical garden by himself and just happened to need to use the bathroom in the reception hall and just happened to walk the long way around. So uh, okay, maybe he’s been actively looking for Keith. But nothing really prepares him for when he actually finds him.

When Lance sees Keith standing near one of the rose trellis arch things, his breath quite literally is stolen from his lungs. Keith is in a sea of people who are dressed to the nines in makeup much more intricate than his; he shouldn’t stand out as much as he does, but that’s the reality. His black suit is tailored to his body perfectly, a ruby-red shirt with a black tie neat and in place. The Shallura corsage is pinned to his breast pocket, making him look softer somehow. A gust of wind sends rose petals flying into him, dancing as they land on his shoulder and in his hair in kisses of pink. Keith laughs at something someone to his right is saying, brushing rose petals away as he runs an elegant hand through his hair. The Greek statue on the fountain in the distance or the beautiful wildflower topiaries all around pale in comparison to him. Even Allura’s model friends – because on top of being a physics/comp sci queen, she’s also a photographer with lots of gorgeous model friends – can’t hold a candle to Keith in that moment.  
Lance is so fucking smitten, and it sucks because he knows he’s a goner. Overcome with a sudden pang of longing, Pidge – who seems particularly in-tune with Lance’s emotional state today, God bless – pulls him away. 

“Lance, can you help me find the hors d’oeuvres? I skipped breakfast and I’m starving,” she says earnestly. Lance and Pidge both know that she’s covering, but he appreciates her gesture.

“Sure,” he says gently, melancholically. “Let’s go find them.” And with one last glance at Keith, he and Pidge go inside to find the food. Lance misses Keith casting him a similar glance as they leave.  
\---  
Keith has been running around like a zombie for the past twenty minutes because “oh we have to check on the cake” and “oh, Keith, you’re not busy, can you find the ring bearer and flower girl?” and he managed to find the little rascals hiding in the coat room but then they ran off. He’s so tired. He’s almost made it back to the lake, hoping he finds the kids. And he does, but he also sees them with Lance, and fuck, Keith is so gay. He’d caught a glimpse of him before, but up close he is simply stunning. That’s all he’ll admit for now, as he doesn’t wax poetic ever. He might have to make an exception for Lance, though. It should be criminal to look that good in a navy-blue metallic suit, all suave and shit. Lance is talking to the kids, crouching beside them and making these little gesticulations that make Keith’s heart palpitate a little. In the good way. Not in the anxious or combative or embarrassed way, with which he is all too familiar. 

The kids are laughing, too, the ring bearer moving to drape himself over Lance’s leg and the flower girl pausing from her very important task of tearing grass out of the dirt to mimic the ring bearer. Keith calls out to them.

“Korra! Bolin!” he shouts to them. “Seriously,” he says exasperatedly as he approaches them. Bolin squeals when Keith scoops him up and blows a raspberry into the toddler’s stomach. “You guys have to get up on stage. The ceremony is starting soon.”

“But Mr.Keith,” Korra shouts with a pout. “I want a piggyback ride if we’re going all the way back there!”  
Keith sighs but crouches so she can get on, not letting Bolin fall. He notes that Lance watches all of this bemusedly, sending him a wink once the cargo is loaded onto Keith’s person. Keith finds himself blushing despite himself and sends back a small smile, which seems to surprise and delight Lance, who returns a wide smile of his own. But then Matt is calling out to them and Keith really needs to head back, so he sends Lance another small smile and then power walks as fast as he can with munchkins pulling at his hair and suit.  
\---  
Lance is getting ready to head out to the ceremony from the adjacent reception hall when he sees Keith again. Keith, who’s good with kids. Keith, who has the sweetest little smiles. Keith, who’s walking from the back of the room, the white light of the doorway casting a soft halo around him. And when they make eye contact, there’s a brief, unreadable look before Lance turns his head away, heartbeat rapidly increasing. Lance gives himself a minute before joining Hunk and Shay, who had gotten there late from the morning shift at her bakery (that place wouldn’t survive without her) – in the audience.

A man with a bright orange mustache (what a look, honestly) is playing violin at the very front of the room. If Lance isn’t mistaken, that must be Allura’s Uncle Coran. The weather is beautiful; the sun is shining and there’s a bit of wind, but it’s very welcome for the summer. The music continues to play as the bridesmaids and groomsmen start to file in. The flower girl and ring bearer are very silly, Korra tossing petals at the floor and offering petals to people in the aisle seats and Bolin tripping but then – like a champion – getting up and getting the pillow to the man at the front of the room. (And maybe if a relative picks up the rings from the floor and runs to the front of the room to place them on the pillow before taking a seat, no one’s going to say anything.)

The color scheme of the wedding is actually quite cool. Both bride and groom have seven bridesmaids/groomsmen, each with a different color. The groomsmen all have black suits and ties, with different color shirts such that they make the colors of the rainbow when they line up. The bridesmaids have the same color scheme, but with the colors of their shawls or jackets. Some wear dresses, some (like Pidge) wear pantsuits. Pidge looks a tad nervous, but she shoots Lance a thumbs-up. What a champ. Shiro looks like he’s also panicking on the inside, but he looks so happy and honestly, wow, what a time to be alive if you get to see Shiro’s smiles.

And gosh, then Allura walks in, led by a man with a bright orange mustache. Wait, wasn’t he at the front of the room? And he must have been, because the violin music has been replaced by one of those stage recorder pedal things that loops what it was recording before. Anyway, Allura is a vision to behold. Her dress is simple but classy, elegant. The skirt trails out, the gossamer fabric brushing along the fabric of the aisle runner like cirrus clouds. The chiffon is died with the colors of the bi pride flag, bleeding into one another and into the back of the dress.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a vague blur until the actual vows. Coran ends up being the one to marry Shiro and Allura – a ubiquitous soul, that man is – and Shiro and Allura stare lovingly at each other. Shiro brushes Allura’s hair behind her ear as Coran asks him if he will take Allura as his lawfully wedded wife.

“I do,” he whispers.

Allura strokes Shiro’s prosthetic as Coran asks them if she will take Shiro to be her lawfully wedded husband.

“I do,” she says, her smile shining like the Sun peeking through the clouds.

Allura and Shiro surge into each other like the moon and the tides, and the garden is overtaken by a joyful uproar. Birdseed goes flying and so do rose petals (are people just pulling them out of their bags?), and for a brief second Keith and Lance make brief eye contact. Lance notices Keith blush a little before turning back to the happy couple, staring at Shiro fondly before whooping along with the other bridesmaids and groomsmen. 

For a split second, Lance feels out of place but then Allura and Shiro are rushing by Lance, hand-in-hand down the aisle around the reception hall. There’s a mass exodus as wedding guests crowd by the doors of the reception hall to watch them step into a carriage and ride off. Lance feels his heart swell with happiness for them, and despite all his personal drama, he’s genuinely excited for them. 

Everyone waits for a solid minute before Coran catches up and notes to all of them that Shiro and Allura just taking a ride around the block, as the reception will take place at this very hall in two hours. Lance heads back toward the garden with Hunk and Shay, deciding (like many of the guests) that it would be good to give the couple some privacy, so they can arrive in peace. With two hours to spare, many guests stay in the garden, where wait staff have started serving cocktails and appetizers on fancy porcelain plates. More musicians are playing string instruments near the fountain. Lance sees a woman with an amethyst necklace and, reminded of Keith’s eyes, decides to wave Hunk and Shay off. (Pidge joins them as they all head inside.)

“Hey Keith,” Lance texts to Keith. He goes for correct grammar and punctuation and everything just to show he means Business. “I know we’re at Shiro’s and Allura’s wedding, but I think we really need to talk about some stuff, especially since it’s really awkward every time we’re in the same place. I’m sorry if I was imposing. Do you have fifteen minutes to spare? Please?”  
\---  
Lotor is waiting by the entrance of the reception hall like a fucking creep when Keith gets Lance’s text. He sighs. He really wants to talk to Lance, but he has to deal with this asshole first. 

“I’d like to talk, as well. But first I have to deal with some unresolved feelings, so hit me up during the reception,” he texts back, not bothering with grammar since he can’t text and watch Lotor like a hawk at the same time.  
\---  
Lance sees Lotor walking with Keith into the reception hall through a side entrance. Wait, are they here as dates? No, no way. Keith wasn’t with him earlier. But maybe they’re just socializing with different people. Oh no, oh no, oh noooo. Wait, he got a text…? Heck no. Double heck no. He runs to Pidge. 

“Pidge, Pidgey, Pidgeotto, Pidgeot,” he says to her. She looks at him. 

“Okay, whom do I beat up and why?”

“No one,” Lance says as he shakes his head. “No one. It’s just… I saw Keith head out with Lotor. And the text I got from him implies some heavy stuff between them.”

And something seems to click for Pidge.

“Wait, Lance, I think there’s something you need to understand. Lotor isn’t like, involved with anyone here,” she says emphatically. “Trust me, he is far from welcome. He’s only here because of a social obligation and mutual friends. That’s it.” 

But that doesn’t explain what Lance saw and before he can tell her exactly what happened between him and Keith at the bachelor party, Matt is ushering them to the actual reception hall for the party that’s about to start. Allura and Shiro greet them as they walk in, and Lance kind of sees Lotor and Keith near a table whispering in very passionate tones to each other. Explain that, Katie Holt.

Lotor is leaving and Keith kind of just slams his head down on the table and reaches blindly for a full shot glass before he just resurfaces and downs it in one go. Whoa, okay. Lance takes Lotor’s seat. Keith spares him a glance before doing a double take.

“Oh Lance, hey,” Keith says nervously, running a hand through his hair. Geez, has he slept today?  
Someone carts the cake to the corner of the dancefloor, and it’s fricking gorgeous, standing right next to Keith and Lance at the corner of the dance floor like some celestial beacon, sentry to partygoers everywhere. It’s shaped like a rocket – because they’re nerds – and it looks actually pretty realistic, but it has pink and black bows and white flowers and it’s just so cute and sweet and looks really delicious.  
Lance moves like he’s about to say something. Then suddenly there’s music. “Hey, um, dance with me?”

Keith just blinks at him. “Um,” he repeats, “Sure.” And then Lance is grabbing Keith’s hand and pulls him into a classic waltz position – him leading, of course, because he took five years of ballroom dance and he’s basically a pro now – and tries to think of how he can best convey what Keith ought to know.

“Just for the record, I didn’t ignore your message. I was busy,” Keith says apropos of nothing. Lance is surprised he remembered. That’s good to know, though.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lance stutters out. “I just wanted to clear the air here.”

Keith nods, signaling for him to go on. And there’s a few minutes of internal gay (bi, whatever) panic. A song changes into a pop song and they kind of bounce in place and then the song shifts again into something a bit more up Lance’s alley (meringue, because not only did he learn this but it’s also in his blood). And Keith is looking at Lance’s hips, which is a good sign, and he’s so damn cute trying to move his hips the same and so clearly frustrated with his body failing him. But Lance means Business and he has some stuff he needs to know.

“So… I see you’ve been hanging around that guy a lot,” Lance says. “And look, he’s definitely hot. I get it.”

Keith frowns. “What guy?”

Lance bites his tongue and then spits out, “Lotor?”

Keith growls a little. “What of him? What’s your point, Lance?” 

Lance gasps internally. Is Keith that hung up on Lotor that he’s super-protective of him?

“Um, look. So, I wish you the best with your boyfriend because I can’t do this?”

Keith goes from unequivocally irate to super confused. “I beg your pardon?”

And oh boy, Lance wonders what was in the adults’ punch (it was spiked with a bottle of tequila, but Lance didn’t see the sign) because what he says next is just verbal diarrhea and he wants to crawl into a hole and perish. His social skills are deplorable when it comes to his feely-feelings, but they’re a thousand times worse when he’s buzzed.

“And look, if you’re gonna hoe around, I’m not gonna judge, I myself am a bonafide hoe. But Shiro deserves better and you should tell him what you feel,” Lance manages to say through all his rambling, cutting Keith off as he’s about to respond. “And that Lotor guy might be good for you, because of all that tension or whatever, but you need to figure out some stuff. And also, I know we’re not like, in a ‘relationship’ relationship but I kinda thought we had something going? So I also don’t appreciate being not-cheated on. I mean, I want someone to NOT cheat on me, but not-cheat is like pseudo-cheating but it’s kind of real cheating but also not-”

“Lance, slow down,” Keith says exasperatedly, breaking away from Lance, who’s only been swaying him back and forth for the past two minutes. “What?! Lotor and I are not together. And what should I be telling Shiro? I’m lost.”

“So am I, because I thought we had a thing and you were having relations with Lotor,” Lance shouts. Keith’s eyes flare as he takes a step back toward the column. People are definitely staring at them now. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Ahh.

“Well, yeah, I guess you could call them relations,” Keith says dismissively. “If you call knocking people around relations. But I guess that makes you a fucking hypocrite, Mr. Self-proclaimed Bonafide Hoe. You’ve been so sweet and sending so many incontrovertible signs that you’re interested in me, and then you’re flirting with him?!!” 

“Because you were doing it first!” Lance says back, like an idiot. He didn’t even initiate it really, he kind of just went with it because he feels lonely. It wasn’t personal. But whatever Keith and Lotor had was personal, it had to be. And Keith looks about ready to give him a right hook. At this point Coran is walking over toward them like he’s going to separate them, and even Allura and Shiro have taken notice that there’s some commotion (though most partygoers are lingering outside and by the doors, so a lot of people haven’t yet seen them). “And anyway,” Lance continues. “You clearly just want to be with somebody! Anyone will do! You just want to play with me and throw me away!” 

And Keith shakes his head, storming away. There’s probably an actual storm cloud above his head. But Lance isn’t done, because he needs to hear from Keith’s mouth directly what’s been happening. He probably should’ve asked about that first, but too late. Whoops. He grabs Keith’s arm. But then Keith, who (of course with his workout regimen) must be some martial arts god or something because the world goes upside-down for Lance and then Lance is flying but he doesn’t let go of Keith and then he can’t breathe but his mouth is sweet, and he’s surrounded by mush and when he lifts his head, literally everyone is looking at him. Well, at him and at Keith, who is next to him, also covered in delicious rocket cake.

Allura looks appalled, and Shiro looks like he’s on the verge of tears. Matt looks like he’s going to murder both of them. He grabs both of them by the scruff of their necks.

“We’re leaving. Now,” he says as he drags them away.

“Oh my,” Coran says with a light lilt once they’ve been hauled out.  
\---  
Allura is kind of angry. She’s upset, too, but she’s mostly angry.

Shiro is kind of upset. He’s angry, too, but he’s mostly upset.

They nod at each other and then split off to find their village idiots.  
\---  
Matt has tried to force them to talk it out, but they’re still fuming, and Matt ditches them to see what can be done about the cake. So Lance, who is just not ready for this, leaves and goes to mope outside on the back patio. There’s a gross couple making out in the trees as if they’re being discreet, but besides them, Lance is all alone. He hears light footsteps and knows simply by the sound of them that it’s Allura.

“Lance,” she says coolly. Lance sighs.

“I know,” he says, sensing the waterworks from a mile away. “I’m sorry.”

Allura’s expression softens, and she smooths out her dress before she takes a dainty seat next to him. Wrapping a long arm around his waist, she leans so her temple is touching his left shoulder and gives a long sigh.

“Care to explain what happened?”

Lance takes a deep breath.

“Um, no?” he says. Allura gives him an unimpressed look. Lance sighs.

“Alright,” he starts. “So, I kinda have a huge thing for your guest Keith. But I saw him being all serious with his boyfriend and then he said some stuff about Shiro that makes me think there’s some unresolved stuff going on, but I don’t want to ruin you guys’ wedding, I swear and-”

“Lance, sweetie, breathe,” Allura murmurs, bringing her arms around him as Lance cries into her shoulder, breaths hurting as they enter his lungs. “Look, I’m not sure what you saw.” Allura draws back and Lance stares at her with wide eyes. “But I sense that there’s some misunderstanding because Keith does not have a boyfriend. And Keith has a very close relationship with Shiro; I doubt he’s cross with him.”

“Okay, but it’s not ‘anger’ that I think is being felt here,” Lance says, more verbose than he’d normally like. “Like, Keith and this guy were all over each other. And again, the unresolved stuff with Shiro is more of an affectionate variety. Err, a passionate variety. But please, please, don’t be mad at me or at Keith. I genuinely believe he’s doing the right thing and I can’t shut up when I’m feeling intense emotions.”

Allura stops him. “Wait, Lance? Now I’m fairly certain there’s a misunderstanding. Do you think Keith has romantic feelings for Shiro?”

Lance nods. “Has he been hiding them?”

Allura lets out an amused chuckle and, shaking her head, plants her hands firmly on his shoulders. “Um, Lance. Listen, you need to talk to Keith. Keith is actually-”

And at that moment, Matt shoves Lotor out of the door and past Lance and Allura.

“And stay out, fuckwad! Don’t ever touch my baby sister!” he shouts. Allura stands up immediately. Lotor’s coat is tattered, and there’s blood on his cheek.

“Lotor?” Allura asks. Lance stares, adrenaline flowing through his veins. Is Pidge…? But then Lance gets a text from Pidge that reads:

“yeah lotor decked me, imma have a black eye but i kicked his scrawny ass so im good, don’t worry bb”

Lance looks up to see Lotor looking at Allura in absolute shock.

“Uh, Your Highness?” Lotor offers. Lance stares more, Allura looking a little nervous.

“Lotor, you’re going to tell me what happened,” she commands.

“Yes, m’lady,” Lotor stutters out. Wow, this is different. “So I was giving some well-intentioned but misplaced advice over cocktails and a light politically-fueled altercation broke out. I was damaged in the scruff.” 

Allura narrows her eyes at him. “You’re lying. You punched a guest and got fucking clobbered.”

Lance and Lotor both gape at her.

“Get lost,” she tells him. “I will call the police if I see you on this property at any other point this evening.”

Lotor runs for the hills. Allura sighs.

“Lance, please go back inside and wipe up what you can. I have a few phone calls to make,” she says with resignation. Lance nods.  
\---  
Shiro finds Keith in the second-floor lobby. Typical; perfect brooding spot.

“So, baby bro,” he sing-songs. Keith scowls.

“No,” he says. Shiro frowns.

“Considering that you and Lance fell into our wedding cake and almost had a full-on fist fight, don’t you think I deserve to know what happened?” And then Shiro’s giving Keith the Disappointed Dad Look and Keith can’t really NOT tell him. He sighs.

“Lance has been acting really dumb,” he says. Shiro is pensive for a moment and then gasps.  
“Wait, as in the Lance you’ve had your eye on?” And then Shiro is laughing wildly. Keith’s scowl gets even deeper. 

“Is there a fucking problem?” he snaps. Shiro tries to quell his giggles.

“I have to say, Lance doesn’t strike me as your type to begin with.”

“Handsome, fun-loving, sweet, energetic?” Keith mumbles at the ground. Shiro looks like he was going to say something else and then he pauses.

“You really like him, don’t you?” he asks softly. Keith just hangs his head lower. “Aww, Keith. Buddy, come here.” 

They hug it out. Keith’s always appreciated Shiro’s hugs. Shiro knows when to respect his boundaries and when to get into his personal space. Like now. When he needs it. When he feels alone, unloved.

“But wait, seriously. What’s happening?” he coos gently. Keith sighs. He grudgingly admits that Lance thinks he’s cheating because he saw him with Lotor at the bachelor party. But he leaves it at that. 

Shiro extends a hand out to Keith. “Then let’s go find him and rectify this, huh?” 

Keith chuckles. Leave it to Shiro to sound like a space crew leader rather than a normal adult. He takes his hand.  
\---  
Dinner kind of ends up resuming as normal. Allura steps back in a few minutes after Lance has finished cleaning up. Apparently, most of the cake was still salvageable (large parts were cut away and swept off, so what’s left is a vague rocket ship and some icing on the far side of the cake, but it all still looks downright delicious). Most of the food has been served. 

Suddenly glasses are clinking, and Matt asks if anyone wants to say a few words about the couple. A relative of Allura’s gives a short speech about Allura’s ambition and drive, and about how Shiro brought out the best in her. A few others compare them to the ying and the yang. Someone tells them that they’re awesome and that their wedding gift is in the mail, and then lets their friend rave about the couple. Honestly, Lance kind of loses track. Hunk at some point talks about “the best TA’s Cal Berkeley has ever had” and mentions how both of them bring out the best in everyone, and Lance doesn’t want to draw more attention to himself than he did earlier this evening as that’s a pretty good description, so he doesn’t say anything.

Matt finally turns to Keith and asks (quite pointedly, if Lance may add) if the best man would like to say anything. Keith stands up. Lance waits with bated breath as Keith takes a deep breath, as if he’s bracing himself to say something.

“Um, hi, everyone,” Keith says unwaveringly. (His voice never gets breathy when he’s nervous. But he looks toward Matt, then toward Shiro and Allura, who give him encouraging smiles with their arms intertwined. He wonders if they see the trembling in his hands as he holds the microphone.) “So, thank you for coming out to Allura’s and Shiro’s wedding. When you’ve been with these wonderful people as long as I have,” he says as he shoots them a blinding smile. “You find yourself believing in the miracles of life, like true love – no matter how little you believe in anything.”

Suddenly Lance and Keith lock eyes, but only for the briefest of moments before Keith’s turning away as if nothing happened. Lance, meanwhile, thinks he’s going to have a heart attack. Just a coincidence, though, because Keith is still staring at Shiro (maybe Allura, but mostly Shiro) with practically goddamn hearts in his eyes. If anyone deserves so much love, it’s Shiro. But how was it not obvious to him before that Keith is practically in love with Shiro?

“Ever since we were kids, Shiro’s taken care of me. He was a beacon to me when my parents died, and he’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember.”

Lance frowns. He didn’t know this. Not that this is something you’d find out immediately after meeting someone, but…

“He’s encouraged me to push myself and to be the best version of myself. I’ve always looked up to him for his kindness, his leadership, his patience, and his poise. All things I’ll admit that I lack… a little bit,” he says awkwardly, chuckling. There’s laughter scattered around the room. A cheeky ‘A little?!’ pipes up from the back of the room and Keith sticks his tongue out at someone who must be an auntie or something because she sticks her tongue back out at him.

“When we were little, I remember this time that I would find some corner to hide in at school. But Shiro would sit with me and wait for me to crawl out from some random air vent before we went home instead of ditching me. To be honest, I feel like that sums up our relationship pretty well; he’s my hero, the one who will stay with me when other people don’t.”

He’s his hero, Lance notes.

“When he met Allura, I knew there was something special. I’ve always had such high standards for him because he’s been my pillar of strength for so long. But I realized that this can be a burden, and Allura is possibly the only person I’ve met whose strength, passion, and kindness are on par with Shiro’s. She’s become a second pillar of strength for me, and I’m thankful to whatever god that does or doesn’t exist that…” Keith makes a quiet choked sound, eyes watery. Someone coos from right next to him and he gives a half-hearted shove to their shoulder. “I’m thankful that they found each other. Shiro is the best brother I could have possibly asked for, and I’m honored to welcome the best sister into our family. I love you both so much. Congratulations.”

Brothers?!

The room erupts into vibrant cheers. Shiro and Allura both rush to him and give him a crushing hug, kissing his cheeks and his forehead. He’s clearly flustered, because his ears are turning red and he squirms out of their (extremely beefy) grips. There’s a jovial atmosphere as conversation in the room resumes as normal. Lance, however, feels a monumental shift in his… entire existence? 

Once again, he and Keith lock eyes. Keith’s eyes narrow. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional notes: 1. FML I didn’t know that Shiro was Gay-gay? Now I feel bad, because I was hc’ing him as bi but it’s too late to not ship him with Allura for the purposes of this fic. 2. I made Krolia part Czech on impulse. 3. Texting and driving does not an asshole make, but it IS v dangerous and people do die from distracted driving so please, please, PLEASE be safe on the roads!!! 4. If I hear "Shy-roe" one more time with MS text-to-speech I will toss my computer into a lake asjkfhas. 
> 
> (Edit: ignore point 1, as it has been brought to my attention that the quote I found was incorrect so Shallura lives on in this fic :P)
> 
> Gotta love how my thoughts get increasingly scattered when I write, ahaha wow I need a NAP nkfsdhkjlgsdjkhlgfdahjkls. One day I’ll beta my stuff more hopefully. Love you all, byeee


	6. Day 6: contemplation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contemplation and a couple conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can someone pls come collect their children?

“So let me get this straight,” Pidge says as Lance turns the corner. “You thought Keith was in love with Shiro but dating Lotor to get over him, while stringing you along? And then, because you have zero filter, you accused him of being a ‘hoe’ at the reception, and then you both fell into the cake when you grabbed him.”

Lance is quiet, but Pidge looks like she’s going to burst.

“I gotta give you some kudos, my mans,” she titters out, fighting giggles. “You screwed up. Also – seriously? Keith and Lotor want to kill each other. Plus, Keith and Shiro look so similar.”

“Okay, you know what? Excuse me for not assuming Shiro and Keith are related. Sure, maybe they have a similar cheekbone game, or maybe they both have similar mannerisms every once in a full-blown moon. But hey, chalk it up to coincidence. And you know what? On TV, people have massive sexual tension even when they’re mad at each other, so sue me,” Lance says, using a hand to gesticulate.

“That’s some royal level of screwing up. I tried to tell y’all, too,” Pidge merely says in reply, picking at a hangnail.

“Yeah, everyone and their grandma tried to tell us,” Lance mutters, hands clenching the steering wheel. “I get it.”

Pidge sighs.

“Look, it’s not that bad. No one got hurt.”

“Pidge, you’re saying this with a black eye the size of a saucer.”

“Okay, no one got seriously hurt. And my black eye’s because of a different thing, not your thing.”

“Yes, it is!” Lance shouts. “If I’d been there with you, I doubt Lotor would’ve tried anything. I’ve got like three inches on him.”

“Buddy, he would’ve creamed you. He has like thirty pounds of muscle on you,” Pidge responds wryly. “Anyway, while I appreciate the concern, Shiro and Allura got hitched without any additional hitches. If you apologize to them and prove you’re as sorry as you are, I’m sure it’s fine. Now stop worrying so much; you’re stressing me out. I’m going back to school in like two days to crank out about ten pages of this conference paper before my advisor’s deadline, and you’re harshing my mellow. I need to get into the zone.”

“Yeah, I guess. I just feel terrible because I took so much attention from them and caused such a huge disturbance, you know?” Lance says, sliding to a standstill in front of the museum. “When do you want me to pick you up, by the way?”

Pidge shrugs. “Maybe four or five? Matt should be here soon, though, so I can probably get him to give me a ride back.”

“Alright, just let me know.”

“Sure,” Pidge replies, voice suddenly softer. “Good luck with Keith.”

“Thanks, Pidgeon.”

\---

Keith woke up with a massive headache (ugh, history seems to repeat itself) and he felt like shit at the gym. It’s only Monday, but he goes back to work in two days and he already hates himself for not taking more vacation days. The image of the look of pity on Shiro’s face is burned into the back of his mind, and honestly, he needs to recover from the whole wedding fiasco. He’s too introverted for this shit. Never again. He’s never getting married; it’s too goddamn stressful. 

On the list of the few things Keith has signed up for in his life, at least he can get his espresso at Shay’s bakery and this is about the best thing he can imagine having this morning. Suffice to say, it’s promptly spoiled by the entrance of Lance McClain. He looks fucking terrible, though, so… Misery loves company, as they say. And apparently it also loves Lance, who looks at Keith with something akin to terror and maybe dread. One would think that when Lance gets his coffee he’d just make his escape but no, Lance sits directly across from him. Keith sizes him up.

“What is it, Lance?” he says half-heartedly, noting that Lance is fidgeting and looks super uncomfortable.

“I’m really sorry,” Lance says, running a hand through his messy hair. “About what happened, I guess.”

Keith looks at him. “Okay, you’re forgiven.”

“Look, I totally understand if you don’t want to- Wait, what?”

Keith chuckles. “I said you’re forgiven. I honestly don’t have the time for this ‘sorry’ bullshit. Let’s call it fucking even between us, and work on making it up to Shallura once they get back from their honeymoon.”

Lance just stares at him.

“Oh,” he says shyly. “Um, sure. And if it’s alright, can we pick up where we left off?” 

Keith grimaces. “I didn’t say that.”

“What? Why not?”

“Lance,” Keith says decisively. “You seem like a great guy, but you’re really intense and I’m just really tired. I’m not ready to be this invested in a relationship.”

“Okay, I know I went a little over the top, but we’ve been flirting and to this day I’m still not sure exactly what your relationship with Lotor is. I had to hear at a wedding reception that the guy I thought you were in love with is, in fact, your brother and not your lover? Don’t you think that I’m entitled to at least some backstory, considering that our circle of mutual friends has a ridiculously high overlap coefficient?” Lance says as runs his hand through his hair again. “Don’t you think I’m being reasonable?” Lance adds exasperatedly to his left, drawing the attention of a startled young woman, who gets up with her half-eaten croissant, clearly not wanting to get involved in a lovers’ spat.

Keith sighs. 

“I don’t date,” Keith says evenly. Lance gapes at him. “Yeah, I know. Makes it really difficult to have committed relationships. I’ve been told I’m high-maintenance. I’m just not ready for this kind of thing.

“And anyway, for the record, Lotor isn’t welcomed by any of us. I don’t know what exactly you saw at the party, but Lotor is Shiro’s ex. He royally screwed him over; he lied, seduced, and betrayed to get Shiro and Matt into the frontlines. In fact, to the very same battle that made Shiro lose his arm. So no, we’re not dating.”

Lance looks at him with wide eyes and gulps, clearly not sure of what to say. “But… you still kept things from me.” 

“We’re also strangers, Lance!” Keith says, tossing his empty cup into the garbage next to him. “I’m not entitled to tell you everything about my life.” And with that, he gets up and leaves.

\---

Lance probably freaked out the staff. He bolted out of the bakery with wild eyes trying to find Keith but wandering around San Francisco while calling someone who decidedly ignores their phone is literally finding a needle in a haystack. 

He picks Pidge up as planned, but Pidge can tell he’s shaken up. He tells her what Keith told him and Pidge doesn’t look surprised. (Did she keep this from him, too?) Pidge tells him to wait it out and cool his jets but how can he?? How could she hide Keith’s identity from him??

“Look, Lance,” Pidge says. “Keith and I are friends, but I figured there was a reason he never told you certain things. I didn’t know he literally just didn’t tell you anything, considering you’ve been talking so much. It’s not my information to tell, anyway. I’ve been friends with his family since I was a baby, and I’m not just going to disclose his mental health status to every person he meets.”

As Pidge steps out of the car, she gives Lance a disappointed look.

“I know you’re distraught, but you need a face-to-face talk with him. And instead of judging him? Apologize,” she says. “And mean it.”

\---  
Keith still feels like shit. And goddamnit, he just wants his quality brooding time. San Fran is too busy. He goes to Golden Gate park to stare out, but it’s ruined by chattery children and the bustle of tourists. Right now, he just wants silence. But in this corner of the park, he can take a nap in the grass and call it an afternoon.

\---  
Lance happens to run into Shiro outside a convenience store at around 11 PM. Shiro looks taken aback.

“Lance, are you alright?” he asks, and then he gasps when he sees Lance’s expression. “Let’s go to a diner, my treat, and talk there.”  
\---  
Keith stares at the dark water churning below. It’s foggy, so there’s not much to see. He hoists himself up and leans over the rail – not enough to keel over, just enough to feel the rush of the bay air – and then sinks back into the pavement.

Staring at the ocean has always helped Keith, somehow. It’s odd – he has this beautiful attraction to water and yet, he can’t even listen to thunderstorms without blasting music over it. But when it’s under him, he feels like he has some control. Over who he is, over who he wants to be. Maybe Keith doesn’t embody the storybook ideals of love, but he has always had so much love to give. Love that he has given to his friends and family, love that he’s given to Red and to cryptids and to his job. And the thing about falling in love is that it sometimes just drags you in without warning. It’s still too early to say he’s in love with Lance – that’s just it; he’s not. But he might be one day, which is more than he’s ever said about anyone else, let alone someone he met a week ago on a plane ride.

He’s said it before and he’ll say it again: you cannot love someone you do not know. And he’s not wrong. He’s not. But Shiro and Allura are right – he guards his heart like a prison, because he doesn’t know what he could possibly add to someone’s life. It always seems like all he does is take, and frustrate people, and push them away. Maybe if he let someone in, maybe if let someone – someone like Lance – pry at the iron bars around his heart, maybe he wouldn’t have to.

Still, a little tug of irritation pulls at him. Lance is a moron. And he’s still mad at him. But maybe, a piece of his mind supplies, he also wants to see him and hear what he has to say.

\---

“Shiro, I just don’t understand,” Lance says to him, tears leaking from his eyes despite himself. Shiro sighs, rubbing Lance’s back and leaning his head on his shoulder, much like Allura had done the night before.

“Keith really ought to be the one to tell you this, but I don’t think he’s going to because he just bottles things up until he just cannot take it anymore,” Shiro says. “Keith hasn’t been romantically involved with anyone. Ever. And I think he’s caught off-guard by just how much he likes you.”

“Really?” Lance asks. He’s curious as to why… with his handsome looks, it’s a given that Keith – unless there’s some major character flaws there – would have exes. Right? “Why?”

Shiro smiles and pats Lance’s arm. “To Keith, you represent a lot of things he doesn’t believe he has the capacity to have. You’re energetic, and you love so vibrantly that sometimes, you blind other people. You’re happy and full of ideas and maybe a tad quixotic at times, but you’re positive and quirky and humorous and honestly, you’re such an easy person to love. Keith is just drawn to you.”

“Thanks, Shiro,” Lance says, face turning beet-red. Shiro laughs.

“Just stating the truth.”

“But why would he stay away from me? Why doesn’t he do relationships?” 

Shiro is suddenly a lot more serious.

“That’s a more involved answer. Right now, he just needs his space because he’s still upset, I think. He ‘forgives’ people, but he keeps his distance until they earn his trust back. But it’s not so much that he avoids relationships as he deep-down doesn’t believe he deserves love.”

“What?” Lance gasps out.

“When Keith was ten, he lost both of his parents in a car accident. They had been fighting a lot at this time in his life, and I heard from my mom – his dad’s sister – that Keith had gotten in trouble at school, which is more or less what they were arguing about.”

“But-”

“Let me finish. It was a very stormy night; the roads were not in great condition. But Keith used to live in the desert and has always had a deathly fear of thunderstorms – especially after the accident. That night, he called his parents while they were on the road. But his parents love him so much, you see, and they turned around to go back home. Before they could arrive, a distracted driver hit them head-on. To this day, Keith attributes the rocky period in the marriage to his brattiness, and their death to his cowardice,” Shiro says softly. He glances at Lance. “Oh, Lance.”

Lance is bawling, breath getting caught in his throat. 

“Keith didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve any of that. I’m so sorry for the loss,” he says, vocal cords fighting with his need to breathe. Shiro gives him a bitter smile.

“I appreciate the condolences,” he says. “But I think Keith needs them more, and I think he needs to hear that from you rather than from me.”

“Where is he?” Lance asks through his tears. Shiro gives him a half-smile.

“Golden Gate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im screaming, but just in general… also this summer has passed so quickly? My internship is almost over and im just… I cannot believe? Whoa


	7. Day 7: babe i’m just a wip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two young men and a bridge in the dead of night, the morning of a Tuesday. (short chapter, mini-epilogue)

Lance is running, running and running, running (and no, not like the hit song from The Black Eyed Peas, no sirree) when he sees Keith standing on the bridge. His heart drops. Keith stares longingly over the water, the wind tousling his hair, moonbeams scattered across the fringe like dew. 

“Keith, don’t do it!” Lance shouts as he chases after Keith, who turns in his direction and stares at him like a phantom. “Keith, hold on!”

\---

What the fuck is someone doing shouting his name at ass o’clock in the morning? Keith squints out at a guy who’s running toward him. Goddamn shit contacts. If he didn’t feel like brooding so hard, he might have half a mind to shout back or maybe run away – depending on whether said guy is armed, as Keith doesn’t feel like sitting in the police station again, being interrogated for damages when he did everything in self-defense. 

But as the guy nears, Keith’s heart palpitates; it’s Lance, running and running toward him. Lance looks manic, shouting his name over and over again.

“Keith, don’t do it!”

“Do what?” Keith asks, knuckles gripping the ledge as Lance tackles him into the sidewalk. Keith grunts, back aching. “What the fuck, Lance? Slow down.” 

“Keith, don’t do it, please,” Lance says, tears clinging to his eyelashes. He grabs Keith’s shirt as he adjusts himself so he’s sitting on his knees. “Please.”

“Lance, once again I’m going to have to ask you to slow down,” Keith says as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “What am I not doing?”

Lance blinks at him. “Um, jumping into the bay?”

Keith blinks back. “Um, why would I jump into the bay?” 

Lance stares at him blankly. “You were looking at the water.”

“The water helps me think,” Keith says exasperatedly as he starts rubbing a temple. “Also, I’m pretty sure you cracked my skull. Why are you so heavy?”

“Sorry,” Lance mumbles, sitting up. “I uh, I don’t know. I’m a big-boned boy?” 

Keith snorts besides himself, rolling back onto the pavement and running his hands through his hair. 

“Lance,” he says as he feels a smile creep up on his face. “What are you doing here?”

He looks up to see Lance flushing a deep red.

“Uh, right,” Lance stammers out. “Right, shit. Uh, fuck I didn’t think this far. So, um, I’m here-”

“Lance, I like you a lot,” Keith says with finality, noting how Lance’s jaw drops. “Sorry, I just want to put that out there. I’m still mad about all the stuff that went down, but if you’re anywhere near as anxious as I am, I just want you to know that I don’t hate you. And in fact,” Keith continues as he draws a breath. “If you’re willing, I’d still like to discuss a relationship.”

Lance looks like he’s on the verge of tears. Fuck.

“Oh no,” Keith mutters, standing up as he brushes off his jeans. “Guess I’m too late, huh? Geez.” 

They stare at each other as a few cars pass them. 

“Lance, you alright?” Keith asks gently, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder before realizing that maybe he shouldn’t touch him randomly and moves to back up from under him. Just as he’s starting to remove his hand from Lance’s shoulder is when Lance suddenly grabs it.

“I’m really sorry,” Lance says, holding Keith’s hand to his chest. “I’m sorry for assuming things and I’m sorry for grabbing you without your permission and I’m sorry for ruining your brother’s wedding and I’m sorry for all this mess. I’m a mess.” He looks down at Keith’s hand and where he’s sitting on top of Keith and shifts so there’s some distance between them. “Sorry for grabbing your hand and sitting on you.”

Keith leans forward and grabs Lance’s wrists before cupping his face, Lance looking back at him with something akin to hope in his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry, too,” he says quietly. “There were some holes in my identity that I didn’t tell you about, and I did fling you into a cake. So, I’m sorry. I may not be sorry for… not being ready, I guess… but I am sorry for omitting things from you and for getting angry when you asked for clarification.” Keith lets his hair flop into his eyes, and if Lance doesn’t admit that it makes him fall a little bit deeper, he knows he’s a goddamn liar.

“Apology accepted,” Lance says, smile spreading through his lips as it sinks from his eyes into his cheeks. “Are we cool?” Lance smiles with his entire face, Keith notes to himself. 

Keith nods fiercely. “A thousand times yes.” 

Lance sighs in relief, rolling off. “Oh, thank god.”

“That said,” Keith starts, watching Lance’s face shift from unadulterated happiness into concern. “No, don’t worry. Well, maybe?” And now Lance just looks confused. “I just… want to take this slow. I’m kind of new to this whole dating thing and seeing as we only met a week ago – and had this identity fiasco – I think we should get to know each other better, set some boundaries, maybe go on some casual dates first.”

Lance smiles wide before spitting into his hand and sticking it out.

“Deal.”

Keith can’t help but laugh and reach out to kiss Lance’s nose, much to Lance’s surprise (and delight, if his smiley-light-bulb face is any sign). 

“Casual starting now. And deal,” Keith says, shaking Lance’s other hand.

And for any car passengers, they just see two oversized man-children sitting on this fucking road on this red bridge in the dead of night, laughing, looking at each other like they might be falling a little bit in love.

\---  
[Six months later]

“So, Keith, Keitheroo, Keithy-Cake,” Lance says, leaning over Keith’s kitchen island. Keith looks at him and then rolls his eyes, watching Lance try (and fail) to cut onion. He goes up behind him and, since he’s not tall enough to rest his chin on Lance’s shoulder without standing on his toes, peers around his shoulder as he guides Lance’s hands.

“Yes?” he asks.

“So there’s something I’ve been wondering since August,” Lance says, brows furrowing. Keith wants to kiss Lance’s temple so he does.

“Okay?” 

“At Allura’s and Shiro’s wedding, Mr. Scum-face called Allura ‘Your Highness.’ Unironically, I think?” Lance says. “Is that a thing?”

“Oh,” Keith says around a chuckle, stepping back from Lance. “Yeah, Allura is a princess – well, she’s a queen, technically – from her home island.”

Lance drops the knife and turns around. “Wait, hottie boyfriend say what?” 

Keith turns red; he still turns red at Lance’s compliments and isn’t that just the cutest darn thing?

“Um, you heard me. Allura is from Altea – you know, the namesake of the gardens here – which is a small, obscure island about two hundred miles off the coast of Australia. Did you really not know this?”

Lance just stares at the floor.

“Lance, her family literally has a Wikipedia page,” Keith says, crossing his arms. “Are you kidding me?”

Lance throws his hands up in the air. “Well, okay, excuse me for not assuming that on top of being a literal angel, that she’s also literal royalty. Anything else besides her comp sci and fashion photography, modeling, physics, dance, and princess duties?”

Keith opens his mouth to speak.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Lance says, laughing. “Now get over here and kiss me. And then maybe help me finish cutting these onions; I suck at cooking.”

Keith smiles. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: And badda-bing, badda-boom, we are officially DONE with this fic! It’s been a wild ride from start to finish, and I appreciate all the love and support I’ve gotten from you all over the past year! It’s been a crazy year and I’ve been growing so much, and I just want you to know that it really means so much that you guys are enjoying the story. I’m thinking of adding some ficlets with Klance dates, maybe Klance wedding bells?~~ But it’s all pending. Lemme know if you’d like to see any continuations! I’m posting one comment-related fic soon-ish.


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